Nirvana
by Pandiichan
Summary: Sequel to "Enigma". They took her son. Threw her off a dock, left her to drown without no one to know she even existed. Who was she? She wasn't sure. Anything was better than the hell she'd lived for a year. Especially him. He was heaven on earth.
1. Chapter 1

Nirvana

**AN: So…hopefully this will get off the ground and receive the same kindness as **_Enigma _**I have the pieces but we'll see how they're connected now that the main drama has passed. The days may have lapsed between the day I should've posted it but I've been exhausted. Hopefully (and I hope I did) I got this up before work. I started typing it late on my off day and I either fell asleep on the keyboard or went to bed early in the morning. Anyway, folks, I hope you enjoy this as much as **_Enigma_**! And if one pays attention we may yet get a surprise in the first chapter :)!**

**FOR ANY NEWCOMERS: (Probably unnecessary, but still) PLEASE READ **_Enigma _**FIRST.**

**Note One: This story happens **_**one year**_** after the events of **_Enigma_**. I will have Japanese words in this story (as I believe, personally, Leo would use a bit of Japanese here and there) and if they are not translated in the following paragraph or so I'll put in a key in the authoress note. Usually I'll translate it in the sentence like I did with Camilla.**

**Note Two: This story will be **_**significantly darker and more emotional **_**than **_Enigma _**but it will possess the same...allure, if you will, that had people so captivated in the puzzle/complexity of the first story. My summary may be iffy but I can't really think of how to introduce this since I never fully planned to make a sequel, if anyone has any summary suggestions please feel free to tell me! You guys know I thank and respond to comments of my readers with sincerity and honesty, and great happiness.**

The gates were not yet open, sunlight glistening upon every inch of chain link intermeshed to make tiny diamonds against the golden sun rising above Manhattan. Two men stood at the fence, glancing around curiously, wondering if today would be one of their busy days, or, better yet, the day someone found out. "Outer perimeter secure." the white-stitched name, Iago, crinkled as he pulled his blue jean-coddled arm away from his mouth. A small buzz any six-A.M. onlooker may hear was put off as something askew with the public announcement system; but then again, no one happened by at six A.M. That, specifically, was one of the reasons the place was chosen in foresight to the oncoming storm Bishop had made a mere year ago.

His companion, Max Tejano, gave one last look before slipping inside the automated, closing fence. They were like ghosts in the game-ridden amusement park. The tape didn't even roll until they were secured down below with the others, with the missing, forgotten, and the dying. At the moment, they had the advantage. Cameras were in every booth now that the missing child rates had shot up—gradually, but enough population geeks got together to realize the numbers may be small but they were no less severe and could spark a trend—and all their lights refused to glow, the boss had yet to trigger the film.

Those that would review Coney Island security footage would just think they worked for maintenance, and in a sense, they did. Making the world clean and beautiful. Void of susceptibility to disease, weakness, entrapment, and even death. It was a work in progress; weeding out the thin, keeping the strong and healthy. Not to mention the cameras could always have software updating and _that's _why no tape recorded the entrance of two workers at six thirteen on a Saturday morning.

Beyond the pretzel vendor and diagonal from the booth with stacked milk glasses (an archaic thing, but an amenity nonetheless to amusement park-goers) bearing an alarming neon pink sign dictating the price of three tries at a dollar lay what Max referred to as "the honey hole". To the right of the milk-stacked booth beneath a strategically-placed large trashcan lay the trap door they sought. It was the source of their job, their income, and "playmates" making the ground beneath it divine nectar. Sweet honey for the taking. Max (the lookout of the pair) gave one last look to the nearest camera to make sure that the boss had indeed continued to withhold filming.

Max, being the most suspicious, wouldn't hold his breath on the boss _not_ filming them for blackmail. In fact, he'd almost count on it as a means of collateral. Iago held the trap door open, afraid of the very echo of the slab in the silent park (the resonance was criminal to the silence, their job) as Max slipped inside. The two men fell a short distance of eight inches before reversing the natural squat position, taking their hats off as they looked around the tunnel. Any second the red beam would end the DNA scan and light the way for the employees.

Like any major theme park Coney Island had a twisting, dark work of tunnels beneath it to accommodate the employees and bring a little mystery as to how things got fixed when broken. Plus traveling underground really cut down on having to move through the stuffy crowds of impatient, excited people trying to cram every ride, game, and food item into their senses before having to leave. A gentle hum growled throughout the whole main tunnel that would soon branch off to eight serpentine choices and Max and Iago looked around briefly to make sure every butter-colored spot blinked. _"Identification accepted, welcome to Misellus Corp." _after the automated voice spoke they were free to move. For some reason the boss decided heavily upon DNA scans…after all, what could they be _but _human?

Only after extensive screening tests and what seemed to be a billion sworn statements could they even walk the path beneath the park. Their boss had very strict rules about the operation. Speak to no one unless they have the tattoo, do as I and I alone say; the regular stuff. Now whether or not the two had sick, suffering morals to speak of was unknown. Iago and Max had become near-experts in being secretive, conniving, and deadpanned after a year of working with the boss.

The boss was happy to take the discarded of other scientific companies. Trekking down the main hall and taking the third tunnel from the left Iago and Max went into a large, open area void of humming machines and looked up to the ceiling. Their boss's voice always came through camouflaged speakers in the ceiling, and camera eyes were always watching. In the full year they'd been employed with Misellus Corp neither of them had seen the boss, but constantly suspected "the boss" to be male due to the deep, warbling voice that addressed them. Before they could go into the room that branched off to the left of the seemingly vacant area their employee IDs had to be scanned in the large crack running down the length of the cobblestone wall.

For whatever reason, Iago and Max had never truly been told what caused the boss to have such an affinity for trickery, hiding, and intense disguise, the underground was riddled with hidden traps, scans, and various password-ID related seals. To even be an employee they had to sign death waivers should they forget the code or trigger a trap. The boss was just covering the basics. Max and Iago knew, however, the traps weren't to keep the humans out (well, it was if they didn't have the proper credentials) but the traps were made to keep their "guests" in. With a _woosh! _the hidden stone door eased back on well-oiled tracks to reveal a polished, high-tech laboratory just beyond a slight depression that acted as a pathway to the center of the beeping, humming machines.

Two computers, each acting with connected intelligence and three screens were at the right of the room, humming with life and light. These two computers acted as a catalogue and technical roulette table for candidates that were to be "pursued with interest" by those working for the boss. Those valiant souls giving up their lives to perfect the cause, the goal. On the far left of the room sat—lined up side-by-side—a gurney complete with straps beneath a suspended, dangling square of various "medical" equipment, a gynecologist chair, and a large lab table looking like something out of _Frankenstein_ because of the various colored substances and odd machines occupying it. In the left corner was an empty, obnoxiously large, rotund cage made of Plexiglas and steel, enhanced with the latest patented security such as hair, fingerprinting, retinal, padlock, and voice activation.

This cage, though empty and clean, had a label. It had been empty since Iago and Max began to work for Misellus Corp. but the boss constantly assured—with the passing days—it would soon be filled. Max walked up to the cage absently, brushing a finger across the label nearly as wide as it was long, fingering the dual-language text (English and Japanese) curiously. Hamato, Leonardo…who was that? That one wasn't in the catalogue.

Iago wiggled the mouse on the left computer to stir up the screens and see what was on the priority list today. The main screen had the catalogued experiments and he scrolled down the large list for the flashing ones. Flashing names indicated something need to be done, whether it be feeding, cleaning, assistance to the breeding room, or back to the lab for birthing. Blazing a silent pink-to-red on the burgundy background Iago clicked "**005**: Jezebelle Lincoln", watching the message from the boss open. Inside were the instructions as to what needed to be done for the cat hybrid with the longest survival record.

She had outlived four of her predecessors, and for some odd reason the boss had abducted only girls with "J" names for the cat experiments. Perhaps he or she had liked _Josie and the Pussycats _as a kid. Jezebelle had lasted a whole year with her mutation, and the boss was quite pleased. But now, like everything, her usefulness had been fulfilled and it was time to say goodbye.

**TO IAGO AND MAX,**

**006 HAS BEEN SUCCESSFULLY WEANED, PLEASE REMOVE HIM FROM THE CAGE AND TAKE 005 TO THE PIER. WE NO LONGER NEED THE OLD PUSSYCAT. WE HAVE A NEW ONE NOW. HOPEFULLY THE OFFSPRING WILL PROVIDE A MORE DOMINANT SECOND STRAIN THAN THE OLD CAT. SHE ENDURED, BUT UNFORTUNATELY SHE WAS A WASTE. TODAY SHE MUST BE DUMPED, IT WILL BE EASIER TO CATALOGUE HER TIME. IT'S HER ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY.**

**LET HER GO OUT WITH SOME FIGHT. THOSE THOUGHTS OF "I ALMOST" WILL CONSOLE HER AS SHE HITS THE BOTTOM OF THE HUDSON.**

**WHAT DO I ALWAYS SAY? NO SECOND STRAIN, NO GOOD. IN THE WORDS OF MY CO-OWNER "THAT'S WHAT BAD PUSSY GETS." YES…WE DON'T WANT TO MEET HIM, DO WE? I'M MUCH NICER THAN HIM. WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HE COMES. DON'T REALLY WANT TO REPAINT THE WALLS, DO YOU?**

**PLEASE MAKE SURE TO TAKE THE REHEARSED PROCAUTIONS WHEN DISPOSING OF HER. DROP HER DEEP SO SHE DOESN'T RESURFACE. YOU KNOW THE DRILL, AND YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU FAIL. DON'T FAIL ME…MY TRIGGER FINGER'S BEEN GETTING ITCHY.**

**YOURS TRULY,**

**THE BOSS.**

**

* * *

**

Six A.M. was hardly busy for the underground home but Maeleyn was already wide awake, something uncharacteristic of her. Something was going on. Even without spending a year with the guys, with her family, and being exposed—wrapped in—to all sorts of spiritual practices and sensitivity she could tell something was odd about this morning. Why this day she couldn't tell, but it was definitely something. Her body was too warm next to Raph in their hammock to be getting a cold chill, and yet her asparagus green skin was marred with millions of raised pores.

She found herself spending more time down here than at her real house, with her father, but he understood. The sewers had become like a new home to her, a new haven, in her time of need last year when life was constantly hanging in the balance. Kier didn't let that become a barrier though; she constantly visited him above ground in her disguise and he constantly came down the elevator with gifts, news, and hugs for them all. The Spector male had become like an uncle to the turtles; another adult human they could trust, and someone slightly before Casey and April due to him being the father of Raphael's girlfriend. He was anything from "laid back" concerning his little girl though.

Kier spent two whole weeks each month reviewing with Donatello the embarrassing "talk" for Maeleyn and Raph, checking sperm samples and urine to make sure she wasn't pregnant (surprisingly, he'd taken Aisoku's brief presence and swift death gently, and not with the "how could you?" rage Maeleyn expected him to), and having a "friendly" man-to-man with the jade-green terrapin intent on mating, keeping, and protecting his daughter. Needless to say Raphael and Maeleyn had a crystal-clear idea of what her father expected of them, and just how to break the news in case something did come up whilst on the topic of "pregnancy". The navy man was slightly lenient though. Raph was a good kid, decent head on his shoulders.

Knew how to fight. And he was raised by a damn good father, regardless of the species. He knew he had very little to worry about should the two "knock knees" as he liked to call it. Maeleyn shook her head, rubbing her chin lightly against Raph's shoulder as she pulled out of all the tangling, sweet sleep-inducing memories of acceptance and fondness from her father towards her "family". The feeling wouldn't go away, and it certainly didn't like being put on the back burner behind nostalgia and joy.

It was as if a voice, a heavenly, calm, disembodied voice convinced her to move. _"Be aware…" _it said. Though she knew nothing of the mysterious intuitive, other-power feeling she knew she must listen to it. _"Something will happen today, something you will not want to miss." _and it was right. Maeleyn almost felt guilty. Today was the two-year anniversary of her missing friend, Jezebelle.

Usually, if she were in Rhode Island, she'd go lay a bouquet of lilies and pink iris flowers on her grave. She looked down at her hand absently, and the appendage was numb since it had been tucked under her side for sleep. During this time of year, when it was just growing cold and snow was roughly a month from falling, the bouquet would crinkle and weigh down her hand. Maeleyn felt bad that, because of her new form, she couldn't spend the proper time with the shoddy memoriam she'd set up for her in Manhattan. Unfortunately for ninjas, good earth couldn't always be found in solitude-hearty places.

A collection of twigs, a small wooden shrine similar to a bird house (except for the fact it was open-faced, holding a framed picture Maeleyn had offered, and had a single unlit candle for company) that Leonardo and Splinter had made resting in two fake pink and white garlands Mikey strung together denoted her presence. She had been somebody. She was missed. Maeleyn had been touched that the brothers had even participated in making something for her friend, whom they did not know, and loved it dearly. Don put a medium sized, smooth rock atop the garlands just off-center from the shrine with Jezebelle's name written in Japanese kanji.

Today should be no different…she should still pay her a visit. Or, at least do something to make up for it. It would ease her mind, and maybe force the nervous air around her. Maybe the same unsettling air was trapped in the lair. Swinging her feet gently off and over to the side of the hammock Maeleyn got up, careful not to wake her boyfriend.

She smiled as Raph moved his arm over into her receding warmth and continued to snore. He'd be fine. Slipping outside into the living room she exhaled. The day, just like last year, was electric and sadly magical. Leo was just slipping out of the dojo with a candle in his palm, the wick drooping and well used. He'd been meditation.

"While I may have been able to utilize my chakra, still myself, and attain the spirituality I sought, you can't. Energies can be felt at amazing distances, depending on their strength. Is it…about your friend?" for a second Maeleyn was taken aback. For a mere second Leo had Splinter's warm, knowing eyes. Eyes wise and deep-seeing beyond his twenty years, but eyes that suited him.

"Yeah…" she grumbled, ruffling her dark hair lazily, wondering if her fatigue was due to true sleep or just a consequence of the ambience for the day.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I asked April to get these for you…you know, for her." Leo pulled a bouquet of pink irises and lilies from behind his shell. He grinned softly when Maeleyn's face lit up, twisted in shock, awe, and sibling adoration. _Leo's really a perfect poster boy, isn't he? _Maeleyn though to herself as she cautiously grabbed the flowers. This all seemed like a dream, but Leo knew how important this day was for her to honor.

And if there was any turtle big on honor, it was Leo. "If I've been calling you 'sister' for a year I figured I'd get something I knew would benefit my sister's soul." along with Donatello and Michelangelo Leo had a strong sense of healthy spirit, of listening to that higher power and attaining a firm link between mind, body, and soul. Raph was more or less 'I deal with what I made and there's no 'higher power' about it.' unless something _really _happens to make him say otherwise. If anything has happened like that he's been quite about it, so Maeleyn hasn't seen otherwise on his opinion.

"Thank you Leo."

"You're welcome, imouto." _Little sister…_Maeleyn gave a tiny smile. At first in her relationship with Raph he'd seemed rigid, slightly accepting, but generally defensive of his younger brother. His immediate baby brother. But after dealing with the Hunter his attitude changed. Leo saw her as a protector, like him, but also someone who needed protecting, and let that guarding wall down for someone who would ultimately become family.

Here, especially with the special attention he paid to the day so important to Maeleyn, she really felt the connection. Leo was indeed the poster boy for the first born, and the "nice older brother". "So why don't we go get the others up and go…um…what do you want to do? To honor her? Go to the shrine?"

"No," Maeleyn whispered, stroking a few of the petals lightly in thought. Jezebelle had loved the water, the ocean. She'd only swim in safe water, like pools, but with the ocean wide and deep, a pretty azure mirror for the sky, she often found a place to think in it. The sounds of the waves reaching forward and rolling back, surging forward and receding softly helped her mellow out. "I want to go pick the petals off and put them in the ocean for her…she loved the water. It was her way of chilling out, listening to it and all. Sort of like your meditation music that Mike swears sounds like sex on a CD." the eldest hardened a bit when reminded of his CDs but found the authentic Japanese noises to stimulate his fighting skills, train his senses to handle chaos, and generally got him "geeked" to fight.

She laughed at his expression. "You go get Raph up and I'll tell Master Splinter. Hey, Donnie, can you get Mikey up?" the purple bandanna-wearing turtle poked his head out lazily from the kitchen. His coffee mug true and tried in his hand, one cup almost gone. He licked the brown ring from around his lips and nodded, brown eyes not yet fully alive and the genius not awake to the full extent. Leo walked into his father's room, disappearing from sound and sight as Maeleyn walked back to wake Raphael up.

* * *

Her blanched almond fur glinted dimly in the weak lighting just strong enough to color the grey on her cage. She raised her head, the ears near the top of her head twitching. They were coming. Jezebelle raised her head higher, faster, at the approaching footfalls. Her child, the proclaimed "cub-kitten mix", Orion shifted his somewhat-furry head into her bare breast and continued to knead the once human mammary gland as the milk filled his little maw.

Officially nine weeks old Orion should be weaned but his sensitive little nose picked up scents of men that weren't his mother, and he refused to drink the milk that reeked of those strangers. He wanted his mother. She arched her back high, higher than a normal human should be able to for her five-one stature. The fur of her naked back bristled like needles drawn up by magnetism undetermined, adding to her curled-lip look of rage. They were going to take her baby.

Jezebelle gently took the chin of her hybrid child into her mouth, being extremely careful, and bit down just the tiniest fraction; not enough to hurt him, but he knew what she was doing. It was a cat kiss in the native feline tongue. Her three fingers clenched the smooth metallic cage bottom hard underhand and the burgundy-brown claws emerged out of furry vanilla sheaths. They would not have him. She wouldn't let them.

"Mer-r-r-r-row…" using her cat vocals that had, a year ago, been inserted and forcibly bound on a cellular level to her human parts (which was only a result of extensive surgery and further body reconstruction to allow her bones to be as flexible as a true cat's). She was telling the baby to take cover. Blindly, his eyes not yet open, he began to weakly walk away, falling and dragging, rolling in the cute kitten way, mewing high-pitch and fast along the way. Orion wanted to know what the source was for such frantic motion. She knew, and she would protect him.

"Mer ROW!" emphasis on the second syllable of her next growl was aimed at the handlers, who were squatting down in front of her cage. Max and Iago. She was no idiot. They and their ignorant boss (who she'd yet to see but heard plenty of times) thought the experiments were dumb, extremely dumb, but not her. She remembered that she was intelligence…that she had been something else, once upon a time.

The question of what was fuzzy though, like the other things connected to that question. Sometimes she had dreams, fuzzy snippets of things looking almost like they were being viewed through steam and deep water, but Jezebelle never knew what they were. What they really meant. She chalked it up to being fond, sweet dreams of freedom. Escape. What she would do if she got out…

These two men had been the source of those unforgettable growls and yowls of pain from the cat women that came before her, that protected her back when she was naïve. In their eyes when they became too animal they had to get human DNA another way, and it had to be pure to be effective. She shuddered. Were they going to put "authentic" human DNA in her now, too? Did they think she had used up her humanity, that she was more animal than person now?

Some days, she felt like it, but for the most part—at least to herself—she was the human, and they, the animals. "Here kitty, kitty." the small cage, about three feet high and two feet long (stuffing her five-one frame in this was both a feat and punishment for not listening to her training…but it exercised the ability of her bones to bend so cat-like for long periods of time, which is what the boss wanted of her) was open at last. They were taking her. Swatting at them, hoping to slice their skin and rip their clothes, she fought like a savage beast, darting out of the cage and forward, head butting the one that tried to grab her by the nape of her neck, which had no extra fur like a regular cat. Her voice, once full of human reason, was nothing but pure animal.

Growling, squeaking, burbled yells and high-pitched howls echoed around the cage room. She was communicating to all the animals at loud, obnoxious frequencies that hurt their human ears. Orion continued to mewl and whine at the back of their cage, he shivered and shook, mewling helplessly. "Bitch. Stay down!" Iago demanded; he and Max were given no weapons in which to handle her, but improvised. Jezebelle was feisty. A fighter.

Jezebelle had been taught to fight, as had those before her. Apparently whoever made them all expected war. Expected to—one day—be left in a position in which they couldn't fight, so they would make everything with the ability to fight for them. She was no exception, though she was underestimated. They once expected her soft, gentile, quiet, and only for breeding; a rather calm experiment that got over the general hysteria of change and quit fighting after a year of no freedom, no rescue, and no one searching anymore.

Claws tipped in crimson she bit down on the knuckle of the man holding her, Iago, and he recoiled with a cry. Max grabbed her by her cheekbones and mandible, clamping his two hands together and slamming her face into the floor again. Shut her up and beat her down for transport. Jezebelle continued to growl deep from her throat despite her man-muzzled mouth. Weaseling out of Max's hold by some sheer feet of flexible body endowment, of motherly rage, she went at him again.

Iago was still on the floor so he was her best bet. She pounced on him like a tigress and began to bite on him, anywhere she could reach. Cheek, jaw, nose, throat. Anywhere! "Rffft!" spitting at him as he knocked her off Jezebelle spun reflexively across the stone floor and used her claws to soften the spin so she could run at either of the two men.

Bleeding heavily from his arms, face, and multiple bite wounds Jezebelle wanted to get Iago first. He was the weaker one, and in the animal kingdom the weaker one goes first. "Mew! Mew! Me-ee-ew!" her head turned sharply despite her battle instinct that screamed not to. Max had her baby by the extra fur on the nape of his little neck, lifting him out of the cage. A heart wrenching sight, to see him paddle blindly in the air, his little claws flexing and trying their best to come out as he shook harshly; for a second she stalled, unable to take her eyes off her first born.

"No! My baby! Get your dirty human hands off my baby! Reoww-rowww! Rffft!" what human speech she could fish out from the emotions was quickly lost and she returned to her cat tongue. Iago brought his knee up like a strong bull, nailing her in the chin and Jezebelle winced at the spark of pain coursing through her jaw as her teeth met with a solid clap. Max laughed, swinging the kitten lightly.

"Orion! Orion! Mreeeep. Mreeeep. Mreeeep…" 'Mreeeep' was a mother-to-kitten branch of the cat language (mostly) used to calm the kittens and let them know where the mother was. It could also be used between adult cats, or even humans to display non-aggressive intentions. The little kitten calmed, and she could turn back to battle with a slightly less riled mind. However, the time it took for her to calm her kitten Iago was already drawing upon her. No sense in wasting energy.

His large fists beat down on her shoulders, around the nape of her neck to drop her to the floor and went down with her. He sat on her back, immobilizing her with his sheer weight and structure (she wasn't built for power, but for speed and fitting into odd places like a good operative, though she had no deadly operative initiative). Jezebelle struggled to turn around, to buck him off, and her bare feet, also possessing three blanched almond toes (like the digits of her hand) scraped deep and hard against the floor in a squirming effort, leaving behind scrape marks. She bit down on his fingers again, the outer skin of his pointer finger nearest her lips but it did nothing.

Iago had been desensitized to the pain. His hands continued to squeeze around her throat, his thumb occasionally rubbing soft circles on her furry skin. _It's amazing…_thought Iago, _she's human, but with fur. And not even obvious fur. Hiding fur. Secret fur. Like…skin with fur texture. And I can feel the hairs when I touch her; all small, pale, and soft like cat fur. So soft…_he remembered why he liked these cat women. Obviously women, but with bodies craftily hidden in various shades of silky, sensual hair.

It's why he loved all of them. Loved to feel them. Pet them. They were exotic, alluring, because they truly looked like naked women with bizarre body paint or kinky animal fetishes. Not animals, sexy, costumed people.

Finally Jezebelle quit moving and Iago got off her back, looking at the plump apple-shaped bottom of the twenty-year-old human-gone-animal and noticed how the fur would—in some sports—resemble fur and not skin when disturbed from the natural position. He rolled the limp body over, looking at her face. The cat face lost and decreased age marks human got, giving her a higher rate of contained elasticity in her face, which would make her attractive for many years, and age slow to show. Her narrow face with high cheekbones…he could still see the human in it…the once green eyes (now turned yellow by experiments, by cat nature) now closed, had been human. Young.

Blushing out of reflex Iago turned to his job, digging the funnel out of the pants pocket it had been jammed lazily into. The nipples of her small breasts only showed through the fur because she'd been producing milk for the little one. Being a cat, having the petite structure of a house cat which was, according to her chart, the main DNA animal, her breasts were by no means phenomenal. Hell, in the current society a twelve-year-old would have more bosom than she, but due to it being on an animal-esk body, and on fur so pale the dark pink nubs were enchanting. In the fifteen minutes it took for Iago to secure the homemade muzzle-gag for Jezebelle Max had returned empty handed to put her unconscious body in the large black bag looking falsely of plastic to take towards the pier.

"Okay. One…two…three…lift!" Max and Iago grunted with the weight. She was only, maybe, one hundred pounds (if that, the experimentation and flexibility of her bones had given her some odd numbers as to weight and vitals due to the high amount of chemical exposure and change in her) but the way her body sagged helplessly created odd shapes against the material of the sack and made her harder to carry. After twenty minutes of shifting Max and Iago found it best to cup their hands under the center of the bag, interlace their fingers, and walk with her, Max acting as the guide.

They had to be swift, and it was a hard thing to do, as they had to be careful not to bruise the body too much, or allow her claws to rip holes the sack, _and _not draw attention at the same time.

* * *

Maeleyn gave a soft, painful sigh looking out across the ocean colored and shimmering with the light of the sun kissing it. She plucked another petal off, the flowers shared between the five of them. "I hope you went peacefully, wherever you went, Jezz. I miss you like crazy but I hope you went painlessly." the petal was tossed into the water, where a soft ripple was lost in the hypnotic roll of the waters. Raph tossed an untouched flower in the water, not wanting to rip it up, and watched it bob on the surface. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away, kissing the next petal for the girl who was like her sister, who, on this day, would've been twenty, and let it fall.

She'd lost all track of time, and wanted to…to an extent. On the one hand she wanted this day to end swiftly, as to ease the pain. On the other hand she wanted it to last so she could bask and cherish those precious memories. After all, no more of them could be made. At the moment the five turtles were shielded behind various docked boats, and the area was quite; the freights didn't come in until noon.

"Ugh…c'mon, lift your side!" Leo's head snapped around with Raph's and Maeleyn froze, clutching the remaining flowers to her chest. Mikey had just let his handful go in the light gust, watching the swirl die down and land like flecks of lead in the water. The leading Hamato motioned them into the water silently, and it was suddenly a careful dash into the azure waters. Any splash they would make could sound like an animal shooting down for a fish. For turtles it was easy to look through water up at the currently empty dock, for Maeleyn…she had some trouble.

The water was icy cold, affected by the temperature, but since the events of last year they'd all been encouraged to indulge heavily in water training. Their lungs were strong, and their bodies fit for waiting in water to see what the commotion was. Blurred visages of two men met them, and a large black sack could just barely be seen. How large it was, was unknown to the turtle crew. All of a sudden, with no sound to lead up to the sack being tossed in the water, the large sack begin to sink, saturated and nearly onyx-colored with water.

Instinctively Mikey and Leo swam under it, to catch it. The eldest could feel an odd shape press into his palm and sent a worried look to his brother. Something was in there. Those men had tossed someone…or something…off the docks. Trying to rid themselves of the evidence. Just when they were starting to feel better about scoping around for any remains of the Foot lab Maeleyn had escaped from near the Statue of Liberty a year ago, this came along.

Evidence that, perhaps, their old enemies weren't done. That the DNA project wasn't done as they'd hoped. _But who could've possibly survived the Foot Headquarters meltdown?_ Leo wondered; _what if it's not even one of the old enemies? What if it's someone new? Could they be connected to the old DNA employee group if it's not them in the first place?_

All of those thoughts were unsettling. Don poked him in the shoulder with his finger, pointing up and drawing the leader out of his troublesome thoughts. Those men were gone. Carefully, moving with Mikey, he broke the surface, breathing almost silently as he listened. He had to be sure they were gone. Nothing…just the sound of the waves.

Don broke the surface, along with Raphael and Maeleyn. "Mikey help me get this thing on the shore." Leo whispered, nodding to Don and Raph to check and make sure those humans were gone. Out of the water they leapt, crawling up the side of the dock. Michelangelo and Leonardo dragged the black sack to the shore, which had a slight incline from the friction of the various sized vessels docking over the years, and he pulled a katana out of its sheath, glad to have brought his weapons along with his brothers. His eyes wafted to Don and Raph who gave him a thumbs up, signaling no humans to speak of.

The two brothers and their female clan member collected curiously around the sack. "I felt something in here…" Leo whispered, angling the katana very carefully to cut a slit in the bag, a peephole. He put the sword on his back, unaware of being breathless as he stuck his large fingers into the slit and ripped the material apart, listening to the fibers pop. Not too hard to rip, not for them, but it would probably be hard for someone without constant straining; Leo had to try a little bit to get the slit to expand and split.

"Looks like supplex almost…" Don noted, watching Leo finally peel the split side back like a bandanna. A small gasp was shared between the five. A pale face surrounded a mess of soaked, curling, layered hair auburn hair. The victim.

"C'mon, help. We need to get her out of this." the features looked too soft to be male, too dainty, and the face too…abnormal to be human. There was no question, now, that the DNA projects were indeed still around. Don and Raph pulled at the slit continuing to widen and soon they had her out of the bag in full.

"Dude…" instinctively, childishly, Mikey clapped his hand over his eyes at the sight of her bare, dark nipples. Leo flushed, but found it not to be the time to worry about her lack of clothing.

"What _is _that?" Raph demanded, looking at what seemed to be a funnel jammed into the mouth of the unconscious victim with two belts wrapped around her face to secure it.

"Whoever made her wanted her pretty dead." Don noted, but thought was wasted. Action was needed. With surgical precision he handled Raph's sai and cut the belt binds on the funnel, pulling it out of her mouth and forcing the item from the new hole cut into the belt loop. Leo immediately went to CPR. Her pulse was weak, thready, but there was hope.

Pinching her nose shut, a tiny thing that the tips of only two fingers could secure without breaking it, he breathed into her, getting a verbal signal from Don that her chest was raising, full of his air. Using one hand, afraid to crush her because he knew not of her modified structure, Leo did the thirty counts, waiting for her to respond. In the second set she sputtered, coughing up water. Hacking, a slight chirrup and rumble to the water as it escaped. Her feline ears, to either side of her head like human ears, twitched once and she didn't even open her eyes as she fell back.

Leo checked her pulse once and Don followed up, counting for a full minute. "She's stable. We got to her early so she'll be okay. Probably a shock-induced black out. Let's get her back to the lair."

"Right. We need to get her warmed up, too." Leo had just began to hook his arms beneath her legs, long, furry, lean and slightly sculpted when Don stopped him. He motioned for Leo to lay her back down.

"She has bruising on her…vagina." he was hesitant to call out the body parts on her naked body, but she was clearly not human as she wasn't painfully, obviously bare so he felt like he was analyzing something new, foreign, and therefore didn't feel bad. "It's soft, almost, drooping as if she…"

"She what, Don?" Mikey asked curiously.

"She had a baby. She's had a baby. _Recently_ had a baby. Can't be more than three months since the birth, the body takes a while to tone up again from the afterbirth. Look at her breasts…she's been breastfeeding, and it must've been very recent to being put in the bag, milk is still coming out…"

"And they threw her off the damn pier!" Raph spat, curling his fist hard. He was obviously angry.

"Then we _will _need to get her to the lair. Someone could be looking for her, to make sure they finished the job."

"Certainly," Don agreed, "but where's the baby?"

"Not in here," Mikey flapped the ripped bag with a frown.

"Come on guys, let's get her home. She needs help."

"Cover her in this for the time being, since we have nothing to speak of." messy with Raph's sai, the sai-wielding brother too mad to cut without killing or dicing beyond use, Don cut out a messy, jagged, wispy-threaded square for Leo to wrap her in. He tucked the material under her arms and around her buttocks before picking her up again. Since she was still wet the material would stick until they got home. They raced towards the lair, and Leo couldn't help but drag his eyes back and forth from the bit of tail resting on his arm to the rooftops before heading down the nearest manhole to get her taken care of.

It was his duty as a ninja, as a man, to take care of her when she was in need. In terms of Bushido he could do no greater disgrace to the practice, to himself, or his family name by not helping her. _I will help you, _he vowed mentally, looking down at her and brushing a wet curl from underneath the feline ear that was soft, sensitive to his fingertips. _You have my word, and I honor my word._


	2. Chapter 2

Nirvana

**AN: Thank you to **Scribe of Turesa **for reviewing so soon. I hope people follow your trend :). But I'm glad you like it! I'm happy to write it.**

Since her body was deemed 'untouchable' due to the obvious fact she was breastfeeding the job of dressing the rescued mutant fell to Maeleyn, who took it with apprehension. This wasn't what she'd been planning, to dress another naked woman, but she couldn't just very well leave her to catch pneumonia on the family couch. Maeleyn had to lift her alone, but the task wasn't hard, and she handled the unconscious body with the utmost care. Draping like a limp damsel the unconscious mutant was carried carefully, her tail tossed atop her body (across the bell button, since it seemed to run from two inches above her buttocks to the bend of her knee) to prevent tripping falls. She wasn't sure when, or why, but Maeleyn assumed after they rescued April the guys (and Master Splinter) decided to stock up on dry clothes for anyone else they encountered.

To dress the mutant Don had given up his lab table, as it was the easiest, flattest surface to use. If the supplex-wrapped mutant stayed on the couch any longer the cushions would stink and likely deteriorate worse than what they were. Using her ridged tail Maeleyn hooked the armhole on the right side of the bathrobe and swung it onto Don's lab table, smoothing it out by patting it before she laid the body down. Perhaps a bodily reflex, the second the new mutant hit the table her body relaxed, unsupported, and her legs flopped open, showing her thighs. Maeleyn dropped the sleeve of the bathrobe, no longer trying to slide the arms into it to cover the bare fur-skin.

She knew that tattoo. There's _no way _anyone could replicate it because it was an original design, and she'd drawn it for only one person. The original sketch was never given to the tattoo artist, either, it was brought back to her the day after the person got it, displaying it gleefully, the protected skin shimmering under a square of film-like plastic. It was one of the things she had pinned up in her room…one of the things Kier had brought back with him from the old house at her request. Maeleyn pulled the left leg out full, laying the flexible limb flat on the table to confirm if the tattoo was the one she remembered from so long ago.

There was no mistaking it…she wasn't seeing things. The black pitchfork, Satan's pitchfork, was elegant, thin, and running diagonal across the sensitive thigh area, about three inches in length, pointing in towards the back of the other leg but still visible from a side view if the person in question…if this was her…wore shorts and put her legs shoulder's width apart. Not too long, not too short. Maeleyn had redone the tattoo sketch eight times—she _remembered_!—because she didn't want it too long to where it would stretch, or too short where it would look stubby and the blend lost.

Hanging off the first triangle-pointed tip was a halo colored gold against the black. White angel wings—wings made of three tiny feathers each—were to either side of the dead middle of the pitchfork. It was her. It was Jezebelle. "Oh my god…" Maeleyn's heart thrummed fast in her chest, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

She was _alive_! Jezebelle! Jezebelle was _alive_! Her hands shook wildly and Maeleyn panted, this was…this was unbelievable! No wonder she couldn't be found, the DNA experiments were top secret, and the only reason she'd ever escaped was because of Rilien.

Had it not been for him she would've spent the rest of her life in an underwater base…and no one looked underwater for her, not when her enemies had gone to such great lengths to camouflage the base. Maeleyn couldn't leave her like this…not her friend. Dressing the limp, doll-like cat up quickly she gently tied the robe to hold the two sides together and lifted her; renewed with hope and that impossible adrenaline given to those who rediscovered something lost. Maeleyn lifted her and put her back on the couch, clasping her hands happily against her closed mouth as she blinked the oncoming tears out. "Maeleyn, are you okay?" Mikey was walking by the couch, half-analyzing the new mutant, and intending to catch some noontime TV before seeing his "sister" crying.

"It's her Mike…it-it's really her." he walked over to the unconscious body now, staring at the brilliant, clean, white cotton over the blanched almond body.

"Her _who_, Mae?"

"Stay here, I'll show you." she ran to her room and flipped through her drawing book, a folder museum of all her sketches. Before turning turtle and having to relearn to do things by hand she'd been able to freehand easily. Drawing had been her talent. The tattoo design and the little cursive note 'for Jezebelle' was dated two years and four months ago to the date. Running back to the living room she thrust the removed page into his hands, lifting up the robe, which made the male turtle blush and scuttle away slightly (how did he know what she was doing? For all he knew she could be paranoid and _think _this was her!) to pull the left leg down and let him compare drawing to leg.

As she knew it was, the paper and the tattoo matched to every little detail, even the white shading on the three-feather wings. "Dude…" Mikey slowly lowered the paper, letting the information in. "So all this time she was really…experimented on. She wasn't missing without a clue. She was taken."

"I wonder how she's fairing mentally. To imagine being under what I would assume Bishop's control for a year is just…it would make any sane person go crazy." Mikey nodded in agreement. The first time Bishop had captured them he immediately grabbed the world's worst pizza cutter with the intention of cutting him open, alive. Leatherhead had certainly suffered from it, as seen by his intense stints of rage. Her ear twitched and Mikey couldn't help but grin a little bit; it was like looking at a large Klunk but bipedal like them, pretty…less furry.

"Her ear twitches just like Klunk's! Dude…just how cat is she?"

"I don't know Mikey. She's not in the condition for me to test. Don't mess with her, she needs to rest."

"But her ear's moving, so she's awake…"

"No, the normal cat's ear just picks up, by nature, noises in and around the ten thousand cycle range which is the animal equivalent of a mouse squeak. Her twitching ear just means she hears you, it doesn't mean she's awake. Cat's naturally lay themselves in a position where they can hear their environment so they're not surprised."

"She's not a cat Don, she's a person." Leo had been polishing his katanas in the kitchen and couldn't take it anymore. They couldn't talk about her like an animal, not when she looked too human. He knew when she woke up she wouldn't want to be called animal…she'd want a name, and someone to call her by it so she knew she mattered. That she was still human, despite how she looked. Leonardo didn't believe in letting people call him an animal, not the criminal humans; they always called his family by the species or by another animal. Never 'animal'.

Animal was an insult. He and his brothers were so much more than the usual animal. They bled, they felt, they cried, laughed, spoke, walked, thought…they weren't animals. They were just as good as those people, with better morals than most. Animals couldn't have morals. Animals couldn't have such a will to live like he and his brothers did, because they didn't have complex thought. On that thought, she couldn't be called animal, because she was like them.

A chattering, clicking sound emitted from the couch and the three brothers looked at the unconscious guest. Her teeth and jaw were quivering, making that clicking sound. She almost sounded like she was chirruping, a sound the turtle species often made. "No, no! Don't touch. She's having a dream. Chattering usually notes seeing something they can't have or the sound they imagine their pray to make when they bite them…" Don gently pushed Maeleyn's hand away. Her eyes fell slightly, and she looked at her friend sadly.

Just what was she thinking about? What kind of memories did she have? Claws slipped out of her…hands and began to grip at the couch. She looked to be running, or fighting. Her claws were deep set and gripping hard at the material. Ripping sounds soon followed.

"Wake up. Wake _up_. You're alright. Please stop tearing up our couch, it's kind of hard for us to go into an _Ashley's _store and get another one." Donatello told the cat female as she fluttered her eyes and immediately scrunched her shoulders so her neck seemed to completely disappear; her yellow eyes large and wide, the proper dilation size to match the expansion of the pupil. She was scared. Her fur, once thought to only be a quality or an illusion of her skin, became needle-stiff and she took on the rigid, fluffy look of a startled cat true to the breed. An alto-sounding purr began to rumble, soft at first, taking seconds to become loud, obvious.

"Hey…she likes us!"

"No, Mikey, she doesn't. Cats also purr when they're scared."

"Jezebelle? Is…is that you? Tell me that's you…"

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" she continued to purr as she spoke, something the three male turtles found fascinating. Her voice was weak and soft. Obvious fatigue, obvious confusion, and obvious fear. Ears pressed back tight against her curly hair she continued to study the four figures, Maeleyn and Donatello especially since they had spoken to her.

"Please…you've been gone for so long. We…everyone thought they lost you…"

"Where's my baby? Do you know what they did to him? They took him somewhere! Where did they take him?"

"Slow down, slow down. Please, relax. You're safe here. We pulled you out of that sack they put you in." the blue bandanna-wearing turtle motioned for her to slow down and she blinked, going quiet, purring loudly.

"We know you're scared," Don told her, "but Leo's right. They can't find you here." Raphael came out, having heard the odd whirring noise that turned out to be the awake victim they'd saved. He happened to catch Donatello's reassuring statement and crossed his arms, coming to stand next to his girlfriend.

"And they don't come lookin' for us 'cuz we kick their ass. So you ain't got nothin' to worry about." Jezebelle backed up over the back of the couch and compacted her body together.

"Get away from me. There's too many of you. Quit coming into my space. I don't know you, didn't do anything to you. Don't come near me!" her back was arching and—if they could see beneath the robe—her fur was bristling again.

"Okay, okay. We're not moving. We'll be still. We just want you to relax. I'm Donatello…I was one of the lookouts to make sure those men weren't coming back for you. Who were they?"

"Men?" Jezebelle blinked. Wait…no, it was coming back. Her ears flicked wildly from left to right, stirring up her hair, and her claws tightened in the material of the couch. Yes…those men. One of them took her baby, was shaking him, and he was scared. The other one beat her.

"What happened? I…I don't remember. I just…I just…"

"You probably don't remember anything because when we peeled you out of that bag you were unconscious. It could be a shock-induced coping mechanism. We'll come back to the men another time. It's alright; you don't have to remember it now. Let's just get you calmed down."

"Yeah, dudette. We really like our couch. Had it since we were kids. That's over twelve years of a loyal couch. It's part of our family…and the reason it's the family couch." Jezebelle looked to Michelangelo and her eyes glistened with oncoming tears. His bandanna was orange, just like the fur on Orion's head. She remembered the sensation of his warm, fuzzy face against her bare breast and frowned. Her baby…they took him.

He wouldn't eat for those people…what if he died? What if they got mad at him and killed him? She couldn't help but cry, unable to help imagining what they were doing to her little one. Where was Tigger? Was he stopping those men?

God she hoped so.

"Woah! Woah! It's okay! Tear-tear up the couch! We sew, I don't think we care! Right? Guys, do we care? Just…just don't cry!" Mikey looked frantically to his brothers. Maeleyn cried on him once, _once _but she was alright to hug. She wasn't in utter hysterics. This…person…apparently lost a kid and got tossed in the ocean! She wasn't exactly wanting hugs!

"I know it's hard but we need you to calm down so we can help you." Don said softly, sitting down slowly on the couch, his empty hands raised so she knew he meant her no harm.

"Y-you can't ju-just calm d-down! I lo-lost a ch-child! My c-child! M-Mothers don't le-let their ch-children go m-missing! I ha-have to find my O-Orion! It's m-my job. I'm his m-mother!"

"Breathe…you're going to hyperventilate and then we're right back where we started. Let's do something nice, calming. Introductions. I'm Donatello Hamato."

"Michaelangelo Hamato, dudette. You okay now? Want something to drink?" she shook her head, mouth closed tight as she continued to purr, a clearly displeased look on her face. Tear trails shining like weak diamonds in the light stretching and washing over from the kitchen behind the couch.

"Raphael Hamato."

"Maeleyn Spector…do you remember me?"

"Should I?"

"Yes…yes you should." Maeleyn said nothing else, her eyes soft with pain. How could she not remember? Just what had changed? Who was pulling the strings now? This was personal. They messed with her friend!

"I'm Leonardo Hamato."

"I've heard that name before." her right ear flicked and she looked at him, finally able to put a face with the name.

"How have you heard my name?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jezebelle slipped fluidly from the back of the couch and for the first time in a long time stood up without an electric prod in her back convincing her to do so. She came up to his chin and crossed her arms under her bust to mimic his pose. No wonder why the cage was reinforced…he looked terrifying in his own way, and looking at two of the brothers, Raphael and Michelangelo, they had weapons. What were his, she wondered. He had none on him.

"It's on the tank in the lab. I went there a couple times, and I don't intend on going back. I don't know if you came from there or if they intend to make you go there but you fight. Don't let them take you willingly. It'll be the worst thing you'll ever do."

"Have you maybe heard anything as to why they would want our brother?" Don asked, leaning against the couch arm. Jezebelle shook her head no.

"There's only one rule in the hole, the boss gets what the boss wants. And if you're smart, no matter what species you are, you don't get in the way of the boss."

* * *

_Deedle-leedle-le. Deedle-leedle-le. Deedle-leedle- _"Hello?" Miranda Lincoln picked up the phone and gripped it wearily. Jezebelle played outside on the swing and she smiled, waving from behind the screen door, up from the shaded swing outside the house to answer the phone.

"_Hello again, Miranda. It's been a while…"_ she knew that voice. Her eyes widened and Miranda gave a tiny swallow, glad her large eyes weren't visible to her little girl who was laughing, auburn hair gorgeous and lustrous in the sunlight and against the white puffy coat she wore. _"Not going to talk, Miranda? Why? We used to be so close. I have good news."_

"What is it?"

"_Ah…you speak at last! Well, I moved closer to home. The old Spector house. I'm all moved in…cozy."_

"And what? What do you want from me?"

"_Oh 'randa…you always think I want something."_

"You're an opportunist. We've been over this."

"_But Shadow makes good on what he uses. I don't forget, do I sweetheart?"_

"No…no you don't."

"_That's right. My last present was pretty wild. You loved it, didn't you."_

"I made a mistake. I was stupid N—"

"_Shadow. You call me Shadow."_

"I was stupid, Shadow…ignorant. Jealous."

"_Well, if you want to make up for the flop I have something to ask of you."_

"What?"

"_Shadow needs his Black Widow back. I have loose prey."_

"So what do you want me to do about it? I don't understand!"

"_You just wait, my Black Widow. Wait and keep your eyes open. I'll be visiting soon to give you more information. Goodbye, Miranda."_

"Who was that, hon?" Heinz Lincoln asked curiously, coming through the backdoor with his snow-encrusted boots. Miranda smiled, her loosely curled blonde hair spilling past her shoulders as she turned to face him. The third-generation German man grinned back at her, his salt-and-pepper stubble thicker than ever for wintertime.

"Just Neil from accounting. He hasn't let it go that I put that comma in with the pen after I messed up on Microsoft Excel."

"Oh…" he took off his blue beanie and nodded, ruffling his hair with his hands, his mane of hair matching his beard in age streaks. "The one you're neck-and-neck with for the promotion, right?"

"Mmmhm."

"Don't worry, you'll beat him."

"I didn't spend all that money on creams not to look good at forty. I'm a fierce competitor."

"And a looker." he gave a crooked smile, a smile that slanted upwards towards the right side of his face. She flinched. Miranda hated that smile. It reminded her of what happened. It reminded her why he was calling her up again.

Time to return the favor.

She should've never recommended him. She never should've played cute with him. But how could she know, back then, what he'd become? It certainly wasn't for her that he did what he did. No…once he realized how to use his little doll he spiraled down deeper and deeper, and as he spiraled she changed. The little doll was no longer the doll Miranda had wanted.

All at once, in the span of a blink it seemed, the Shadow had stretched far too long and gotten far too dark. And when it receded, there was nothing left. Nothing but her, the memories, and Heinz.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Leo asked, he hadn't been able to meditate since she'd woken up. Everyone had their own opinions, their own worries, and their auras were like bright, busy hornets. Their bodies weren't at rest, and he couldn't be at peace or even block out this level of spiritual excitement. Donatello's face was creased up with worry and rapidly flying thoughts, he was trying to make a large, elaborate puzzle out of only a handful of pieces, and trying to solve the gaps without any official, credible evidence was hard. Trying to motivate a technically amnesiac cat for those missing pieces was also proving bad.

Don, the natural doctor of the group, quickly discouraged pressuring her. He said it could influence "PTSD" which was an acronym for "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder". Donnie putting too much thought on diagnosing her rather than just _checking _on her. Raphael, his poor immediate little brother, his face was hard and his fists were tight. After what they'd been through last year he needed to be his craziest, trust his instinct the most, because last year they'd almost lost Maeleyn.

They had a new person to protect now, and Raphael wouldn't stiff the new guest on that treatment. Not when they all knew she had a child. That was their honor kicking in. They had to take care of her so she could eventually see that child again, if it was even alive. Don said there was usually two days before hope was lost on endangered holding cases but that was easily disproven with Jezebelle standing there.

Mikey was sitting on the couch with her; he could hear them through the fully-open dojo. In the dojo he could have the serene aura of the room comfort him, but with the door open he could watch the family. See how they acted in this new disturbance, and reflect on the possibilities they may soon face heading into battle so quickly. It had only been a year, after all.

But a year was all it took.

Enemies got smarter, deadlier, cultured their old tricks. Made new connections. It was all too unknown, and Leo hated not knowing the enemy, not being able to predict them. Him…her…whoever they were. It just didn't sit right with him; and a wise warrior never went into battle blind.

His little brother spent the most time with Klunk and—as bad as Leo thought the idea was—he just sat so she knew someone was near in case she wanted to talk. Anything. Mikey was good with things like that. Leo was an 'aloof' type; he'd rather watch from a distance so he could see a bigger picture, ensure safety, whereas Mikey liked to get in close and personal, and establish a quick, fond relationship. Something was going to happen between those two, he could see it already.

She wouldn't have looked at him and cried if he didn't remind her of something, maybe her child. His father had yet to meet her. Donatello went in to talk to Splinter and advised against it seeing as how she was part feline. Her hormone levels were too wonky to accurately test the DNA. Leonardo sighed, taking both of his hands and rubbing his temples and large circles.

That was helping the headache…but not much else.

He was so absorbed in watching his siblings, reading their faces and observing their worried minds not to hear the light padding on the dojo floor. His chest tingled, the tingling racing up a nerve in the side of his neck until his eyes jumped into focus; the famous sixth sense. She padded lightly into the dojo, on all fours like a true cat. He'd noticed from watching her back up over the top of the couch that she walked like a true cat, and it made him wonder if she'd been trained that way, or rebuilt that way by force. The idea that she may have been trained (forcibly or not) made him wonder what else they were teaching the new, surviving mutants.

The new ones could be enemies, or friends. Lethal or harmless. He would just have to be careful, and probably suggest more training sessions just to keep his mind at ease. "Sorry." her eyes were large, and it was obvious she was still at odds with the underground home; her fur bristled into a thick, ruffled wall unable to lay down. "I just…I can't be in there. Not with him…not now. Too much noise."

"He reminds you of your child?" she nodded, her face pressed against the floor, her hair effectively shielding any angle she gave her face as she stretched out fully on her stomach.

"Orion's only nine weeks…his fur's still coming in. It's orange. My baby's half tiger." there was a dreamy look on her face, one that told him she was lost. She was probably holding that baby now, in that dream, and not worrying a bit. He could partially relate. When one of his brother's were hurt he couldn't sit still, and it couldn't get too quiet or he'd go crazy, and dreams did nothing for him. He parked it right there with the injured kin until he saw them open their eyes and ask for food, for anything.

Jezebelle gave a small groan, scrunching her hair as she rolled her body in one lazy motion to sit up with her feet curled in close to her pelvis, hunched over to the slightest degree with her hands planted on the floor between her feet. He found it amazing she could sit like a real cat, almost exactly like one of those solid-gold cat statues from the Egyptian era Don babbled on about when April took them to the museum months ago. Human bones shouldn't be able to do that. "This room is quiet…" she whispered, curling her wrists under in what should be a horribly painful position for a human and tucking them under her sternum as she lowered everything from her head to her torso down to the floor. Mikey let her cut a tail-hole with a pair of scissors, and Leo watched the tail curl around the ankle of her left foot.

"Do you like the quiet?" he asked curiously, getting her to talk was the first step. They could help her after she opened up.

"It's just nice not to hear the screams…" she looked so tired…Leo closed his mouth. He may have a lot of questions but now wasn't the time for them. While she didn't look old per se, what with her odd fur-skin, she definitely had signs of fatigue. Among them were circles beneath her eyes, and her mental status. He knew just from prying Donnie off the computer those days or weeks in a row living on coffee fatigue could cause forgetfulness.

Rest was what she needed. Rest was what the enemy was taking. He could feel it in his bones. Right now they had the upper hand; they thought she was dead, so for a little while his family would be safe. She would be safe.


	3. Chapter 3

Nirvana

**AN: A large, glorious thank you to **Scribe of Turesa **and **Eskimo-Otter **for reviewing! It makes me **_**want **_**to do more for this story. Personally, I know my points but I have a fear it will be lacking and way below par to **_Enigma _**but that matters not. I shall not chicken out, for it will disappoint what readers I have, and to short-change the people that would take the time to read this is a large dishonor on my part as an attempted authoress. And so, here is chapter three :D! Please, enjoy!**

**NOTE: For those of you that like my TMNT work if you look on my profile I'm giving two (one per story) teasers of stories I **_will _**be making for the fandom. You can find them if you scroll down a bit on my profile. I _really _wanted to make a "TMNT mafia/gang wars/cops" type story and that is what spurred the creation for **_"Incognito"_**. A glimpse of that realm/story can be seen through a future chapter of **_"Nerd Support" _**in the chapter "Time" (but the story will be written in third person, and not first person. Similar to the style of **_Enigma _**and **_Nirvana_**).**

**The second is **_Instincts_**,**** the fourth in the 'Colors' arch (it will be witheld until I get **_Copy Cat _**finished, obviously) and it follows the last barcode girl, Jade, through a wild chase away from the government, from the people that made her. By the way, I think after **_Nirvana_**, or even during **_Nirvana_**, I'll start **_Incognito_** just because I'm so entertained with the idea but it will only be posted _after_ the chapter in **_Nerd Support _**explaining a little bit about the universe, giving it some background familiarity**_._

**THANKS FOR LISTENING :D! Much appreciated! Now to your story, sorry for ranting!**

Jezebelle had been too afraid to sleep peacefully that night. Her mind was buzzing with worries concerning Orion, blurry, broken nightmares with the setting she could barely recognize as the lair beneath Coney Island, and the noises of the new underground she'd found a safe haven in. Every dripping pipe convinced her claws to tighten on the floor of the dojo, every snore, until discovered, was the scrape of a weapon across a surface in the laboratory. She sighed, licking the "fur" of her hand again for comfort; catching the faint scent of her son against her…she smiled. Her tough little baby…Tigger was probably watching over him right now; busted out of his cage and everything to protect his child.

Or, at least, she hoped he was. Jezebelle shivered; her fur standing up bit by bit as she thought of the raw look in his shimmering eyes. Deadly eyes, eyes of a true tiger; a deep, dark brown. Almost a dead, lifeless brown. She never really could pinpoint just how human he was to get the concept of "protection" out of the bland rhythm of procreation that was an unwritten rule of Misellus Corp.

Had he ever been human? She wouldn't know…but he had pretty fur for a natural tiger. Jezebelle turned her head and looked at the door, blinking slowly, sleepily. Leo's green foot had retracted almost silently; had he not stepped with the ball of his foot, and with the assumed knowledge that the dojo was empty she wouldn't have noticed him. In the lair, in the home he and his brothers knew was safe regardless of the outside, they slept heartily and he needn't worry about waking them but her…he hadn't expected her to still be in the dojo, or be awake at five in the morning.

"I'm sorry," he bowed, not bothering to put his hands together since one was occupied with a well-used candle, "I didn't think that you were—"

"You were going to leave me in here…by myself." a slight look of hurt crossed her human-apparent face and Leo felt a pang of guilt. She could play those pretty lemon eyes like a child, couldn't she? Just like Mikey could blink his baby blues and get anything he wanted.

"No, not at all. Not intentionally, I mean. I thought you would've slept on the couch. It's much too hard in here for you to sleep. I meditate in the morning so I don't disturb anyone," Leo explained, sitting down slowly in the lotus position. Jezebelle was on her back again, stretching and arching up. Leo blinked, trying not to watch her, trying to focus on lighting the little candle. She was stretching just like Klunk; back a bridge of flexible vertebrae, her arms fully rotated back beneath her before she rolled forward in a 'crunch' position and fell softly to her side in a curled 'C' position.

"You can't very well disturb someone who didn't sleep, Mr. Hamato."

"Please, Leonardo." he corrected her, waving the match in the air to kill the flame as he peered down at the candle. Infantile, soft, the flame burned, casting a small halo of orange and yellow light across the small space it could reach. Jezebelle locked eyes with the flame. To just feel _warm _oh that was a blessing! She hadn't felt honest warmth in a while, though she knew she could provide it with her new cat nature; cats' body temperatures were often and naturally a toasty one hundred and two degrees.

That was more than enough to keep Orion warm but her warmth…her sense of safety…that was taken away years ago. "You didn't sleep? We could've gotten you a pillow or a blanket, you could've woke us up and—"

"Old habits are hard to break. When you're in that hell hole you don't want to sleep. It makes you easier to grab. If you do sleep and they want you, or you're new, they come and bang on your cage just to make sure you don't go into a sleep coma." his shoulders lowered and Leo shook his head. These people…they made him sick! How could they go around tormenting these women, aiding in keeping them captive?

"I…I'm sorry." he wasn't sure why he felt the need to apologize, or what to really say. He hadn't experienced what she had, and he wasn't sure how well he could show sympathy for something he couldn't relate to. Perhaps it was a ninja's honorable reflex. Women should never have to have a time this hard. It just wasn't right! As sexist as it may be he was brought up to let the women do lighter tasks and the men shoulder the hard load.

This, clearly, had not been introduced to this girl—no, she was a woman—and look at her. Missing for over two years, the mother of a child, tossed away like trash. "While the apology is endearing…polite, please, do not apologize for something you had no hand in. It makes me feel like less of a fighter when I get that pity. I may have been the underdog but I fought like a bitch. Just had a bad fight, don't you dare think I never tried, though."

"Right…" god, that was remarkable, he wasn't even going to lie. She had the same stubborn resistance of April, of Maeleyn, when faced with utter hopelessness. April stayed with them until she got her shop built back up, but she didn't quit; Maeleyn became a member of their troop and fought to the very end quite valiantly, and wound up as bloody and beaten as the rest of them. "Well, if you like—I'm not sure how much it'll help—you can meditate with me. All you have to do is fold your legs until you're sitting like me and breathe. Easing your body will release your mind to the astral plane." he cracked an eye open to see if she would copy him, just out of curiosity, and sighed. Leo lowered his relaxed shoulders, absently rubbing his naked knees (he didn't dress in his elbow and knee pads until five thirty, when Don would start stirring).

He wasn't quite sure what tempted her to sleep but she was most definitely gone. Pale-vanilla face framed by the candle light her skin looked less like fur and more human, but he remembered feeling her in his arms, and that she really _did _have fur. Jezebelle snored lightly, her face half obscured from being pillowed on her outstretched arm. The right half of her hair spilled over her arm, curled outward, and the left framed the down sloping shape of her chin, capturing the unnatural human round-ness a cat couldn't have; it shimmered in the candle light and Leo pinched the bridge of his nose, cutting off the staring. This wasn't right…what they did to her was wrong.

Just how was her mental status? If what Maeleyn said was right Jezebelle should be about twenty, in line with them, but who's to say the experimenting in the lab hadn't reverted her to a younger frame of mind? For a second or two there was a debate on whether or not he should leave the candle burning for her and Leo almost extinguished it. Her words were haunting, and when she looked at him with those yellow eyes, those pained eyes, and took his hand away from the flame. He wouldn't extinguish it.

"…_When you're in that hell hole you don't want to sleep. It makes you easier to grab. If you do sleep and they want you, or you're new, they come and bang on your cage just to make sure you don't go into a sleep coma."_

She wouldn't sleep in the darkness, then, the family would give her light. Hope. Leo eased out of the lotus position, padding quietly across the dojo and slipping out the ajar door. He'd leave it open in case she freaked out and turned out to be claustrophobic like Casey was. By the time he'd gotten out of his room fully dressed Don was at the table nursing the usual first cup of coffee.

"Is our new guest going to want anything to eat?"

"No," Leo shook his head. "She passed out after watching me light a candle." a long feminine yawn broke the conversation. Maeleyn inhaled deeply, scrunching her hair in both hands before letting it fall around her neck as she strode into the kitchen.

"You're talking about Jezzie, I take it?" Don gave a confirming nod. Maeleyn puckered her lips and frowned. It still bothered her that Jezebelle knew nothing of her. Had they completely rebuilt her memories? Did she even know there was family waiting back home for her? They may not be her original family, but some of the original members were still there.

"Leo said she fell asleep in front of a candle." Donnie mused slightly, smiling into the rim of his coffee cup. Maeleyn grinned, sitting at the nearest chair as she leaned her head on the arm curled around the top of it.

"She never did like the dark…made her panic. Unless someone was in the room with her she'd have to sleep with something on. When I used to spend the night over at her house she kept the TV on. Jezzie always said it was her reaction from being a premature baby. She had to spend three months in the hospital under lights because she was only a pound and ten ounces when she was born."

"It explains the attachment to light," Don shrugged; "She finds it a security blanket." the genius tapped on his mug quietly, thinking. He wanted to get that blood test as soon as possible. Maybe let her remaining kin know she was okay, alive, it would certainly put what vigil she had to rest. Comfort some grieving hearts. Leo caught the curious, wondering look in his brother's eyes.

"Donnie," his raised voice hinted at polite-as-possible inquiry, "what are you thinking?"

"Maeleyn, you'd know better than anyone. Is there anyone back home looking for her?"

"Oh Donnie, no. Don't bring her family into this. That's a whole 'nother can of worms you don't want to touch." red flag, instantly, both brothers were mentally high alert. Why not? What happened? Was she secretly an orphan? Were her parents in league with the Foot or the Purple Dragons?

"What do you know that she can't—"

"Another time." Maeleyn cut him off, shaking her head firmly. She couldn't risk Jezebelle waking up and walking in. Not so soon, not hearing that. It would surely kill her, or make her wish she'd been dead. Something like that was never easy for a child, any child, to take.

"But why would you—"

"Shut it!" she hissed, the small 'mreeeep!' catching her attention. She must've startled herself into waking up, like a dream too lucid. Maeleyn shot Don one final, nasty look before putting a smile on her asparagus face, watching the other mutant arch her back and squeeze her buttocks through the door with slight difficulty. Still walking on four paws Maeleyn looked at her friend and frowned; she shouldn't do that. Don gave a raised-eye ridge greeting and sipped his coffee.

"Here, stand up. This is bugging me. You never used to walk like this! Stand _up _Lincoln! Don't let them change you! You're not like this!" it was driving Maeleyn crazy. Jezebelle not knowing her was one thing—one very _bad _thing these idiots had done to her—but completely changing her customs and nature around was another. That's a personal level of functionality and intimacy no one should touch. Ever. On anyone, especially her.

"Get your hands off of me! Don't touch me! Rrrrr!" she twisted her furry forearm out of Maeleyn's grasp and stopped her unsheathed claws just inches from Maeleyn's unprotected nose. The cat woman was fast. "It's one thing to call me by a wrong name, but completely another to manhandle me without reason!"

"It's not a wrong name!" Maeleyn objected snappishly, "it's _your _last name. Those people didn't tell you that when they obviously wiped your damn brain! You _are_ Jezebelle Lincoln!" Jezebelle ripped her arm away from Maeleyn and rubbed the tender spot her grip had made.

"You have a really strong grip for a woman," conceded Jezebelle as she glowered at Maeleyn. That odd reptilian female, going ballistic on her! What was she thinking? Who had she lost to be so delirious over her? Clearly she was mistaking her for another Jezebelle…but how many girls named 'Jezebelle' in the world could there possibly be? Ones that she knew, no less?

"I know," Maeleyn tried not to cry, clenching her fists so hard at her side they shook. She was almost certain there would be imprints of her claws in her skin when she finally found the strength to loosen them. "You told me that when we went to the same primary school in Rhode Island. A kid named Sampson Voorheese took your lunch box and I got it back for you because he'd pissed me off the day before when he dumped his juice box in my hair." Jezebelle's ears twitched back once, a single flap, and she blinked. How much of this could she really trust? How did she know this whole 'rescue' thing wasn't just a set up for the boss to see how long it took her to get back to her kid?

What if he was punishing her child for her taking so long? "Look, I'm sorry you lost this friend of yours…if you tell me what they turned her into I can tell you if she was alive when they came for me. I just know who you're thinking of isn't me. I don't recognize you, and I don't remember you. I think I'd remember a walking…um…reptile woman."

"Turtle-alligator-human hybrid." corrected Maeleyn. She sighed, rubbing large circles on her temples to stretch her tears ducts back and contain the tears. If Jezebelle couldn't remember her there was no use crying over her…not in front of her.

"Why don't we have breakfast?" Mikey had been listening from the safety of the concealing corner and quickly sought to diffuse the obvious dismay Maeleyn radiated. "I'll make eggs! Have a seat, eggs cook super fast."

"At least the way Mikey cooks them…" Don muttered dryly, arching his eye ridges in slight amusement. The orange-wearing turtle caught the comment and pointed the spatula playfully at him.

"Hey, you can't even cook so I'd shut your beak if you want breakfast, bro. Besides, we're out of cereal."

"Mikey!" Leo hissed after hearing that, "did you eat Raph's cereal?" it had been the only one left in the cabinet and Raphael had made it v_ery clear _that the last bowl was his. No look of guilt crossed the little brother's face. _Great, another thing to fight over,_ thought the eldest.

"Yeah, he won't miss it. He doesn't eat cereal _everyday _Leo. Besides, today's an egg day anyways since I'm making them." said Mikey matter-of-factly as the eldest began to take down the plates and set the table, Mikey cracking more and more eggs to fit into the pan. He plopped a slice of cheese atop the mass of popped, yellow food occupying the pan. A dab of milk to make the eggs fluffy and he was set, dutifully scrambling them and separating them into portions, the milk left unattended for the moment on the counter. Jezebelle sniffed the air, a pleased smile coming onto her face. Milk…sweet, sweet milk.

It almost made her feel as relaxed and giddy as Tigger could. She stood up, walking on two feet like she'd seen everyone do at the facility, and went to grab the milk; tail swishing from side to side. The milk was _hers_, captured! Jezebelle smiled almost childishly, gripping the carton firmly with two hands. "Hey…" she jumped, the red-wearing brother stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and stretching.

Distinctly she heard pieces of him pop, and her ears flexed in automatic response to the brief new sounds. He leaned over her to grab a bowl and frowned at the cabinet. "Mikey…" the hot brown eyes narrowed on the terrapin chef. "That's why you made eggs." Raph hissed at him, shutting the cabinet with more force than necessary. "Little shit," he grumbled under his breath.

Raphael snatched the carton out of her hand, without even thinking, and poured the rest of it over Mikey's head; the little brother could only be thankful he'd just finished clearing the pan and setting up all the plates. Mikey blinked milk out of his eyes and Jezebelle growled at Raphael. "Wasteful urchin!" she hissed, stomping on his foot with as much force as her frame would allow before walking over to Mikey and plucking the headband from around his eyes. Raphael groaned in pain; his foot now throbbing as Mikey's light protests and curiosity rose above the grating noise he made in his throat while she mopped the milk from his face. Successful at cleaning the young one's face she began to suckle the bandanna, getting the milk out of the fabric.

She began to walk off, happy with her catch. "Hey, hey! Aren't you going to eat the eggs?"

"For the moment I have milk. The eggs can be my lunch. I'm quite…ensnared with this head cloth of yours." Jezebelle gave a crooked, smart smirk and briefly took her hands off the ground to swat at the hanging tails before sticking her happily, slowly wagging tail straight up in the air, trotting off around the corner to enjoy her prey. Mikey's skin, when the brothers and Maeleyn turned to look back and assess him, was a burnt green. The young terrapin was embarrassed. Raph chuckled, along with Maeleyn; Mikey looked torn between being robbed and excited that his bandanna had been stolen so intimately from him and used as a cloth the new stranger was now sucking on.

"I…" for a second Mikey was speechless. "I'm not going to lie," he finally found his voice, "that's hot. It…it's just hot. OW!" Jezebelle poked her head around the corner, now sucking near the eye hole of the mask where the milk had collected first from the downward flow.

"You really shouldn't hit him there," she observed. "You'll damage his occipital lobe." Maeleyn locked her jaw. Jezebelle remembered that from a high school class but not her? Go figure. She'd spent most of her life studying hard for tests…she always stressed about her grades.

Was she going to remember everything _but _her? Just what did she remember her for, anyways?

* * *

"Hello there, _Tigger_." the voice cackled, and the person squatted down to stare at the angry creature detained by the strong, unyielding iron bars. The boss produced a bloodied bandage that had been a scrap of the O'Neil's—actually it was _Jones's_ garbage now, wasn't it?—garbage and held it up to the cage. Indulging in cat nature the large tiger sniffed it curiously, growling soon after. "Yes," the handler smiled grimly, wrapping their knuckles against the metal bars, "you remember this scent, don't you?" it blinked bright brown-yellow eyes at the person in front of the cage. "Those nasty, nasty turtles," cooed the handler; crushing the bandage in their palm with the utmost disgust.

It was their fault this whole base had to be built in the first place…they ruined the last one. All the beautiful work. At least now that stupid kiss ass wasn't around to hinder any new development. "Remember this smell, big cat, because you'll be hunting soon." promised the boss, pulling up from the cage despite the obnoxious growling that followed. In the silence the boss walked, the echo of shoes sending every nerve of every creature in every cage alive with worry and fear.

A smile met the cold lips at the very thought of a presence being so dominating, so fear-inspiring. It was a great success. "Rffft!" the little orange paw wrapped in a splint and a matching white bandage shot through the bars of the significantly smaller cage, trying to catch the material of the boss's coat. His instinct was wild; his little eyes were angry, and he began to screech, biting at what cloth he'd caught with his paw. Squatting down to watch him chew at the coat like a lion gnawing the meat off a gazelle the boss smiled, daring to stick their left hand into the cage (it was the safer option, the hand had no feeling whatsoever) to pet him. Good boy.

"I see the accelerant is working," that was good. Tigger and his boy could go hunting soon. He would be big and strong, ready, like his father. The accelerant was increasing his fur production, and elongating his body; furry, puffy patches of orange fuzz dominated the little body, black streaks hinting at his tiger nature. By chart he may be nine weeks but by accelerant he was almost three months, and still going.

"This is mommy," whispered the handler, slipping the brush through the bars. The co-worker, Shadow, had—for some reason—a previous stash of Jezebelle's items. Maybe they had been a couple... how the missing girl had changed hands to wind up here was confusing, and honestly the boss didn't care. She wasn't truly dead, anyways. That same feeling, one a twin to the assumed lie that Maeleyn was dead, was back and throbbing as loudly and obviously as a jack hammer.

_They have her…you know they do, they always help the ones down on their luck._ And it was true, they did. Those Hamato boys were drawn to bad-luck girls like magnetism because it was a way to express their use, make them feel normal and _have _a purpose, regardless of their mutation. It allowed them to do something good with their lives."And these are the evil people that have her." at the moment the only source of turtle scent happened to be the bits of Michelangelo and Maeleyn's bandanna that had been recovered from the year-old disaster scene, and had yet to be rebuilt (and probably never would).

The cub sniffed it religiously, putting it to memory. Evil people, how dare they take his mother? He pawed at the material, snaring it across his teeth, ripping it wildly into shreds. Giggling, the handler got up from the small cage. That was good, very good. Nice progress.

"Mmm, yes." beginning to walk away the boss sent a hand through their hair. Most people that had been victims of last year's failed DNA experiments didn't have their real hair. It was sad…but theirs was still intact! "Let's see how you handle this, Mr. Hamato. I'm back up to bat and this time I'm not going away. And if I have my way, that chinky-eyed bitch won't be helping you out this time…" their wish was a stretch. Karai wasn't so easy to kill, given her training.

But that didn't mean it couldn't be done. Time for some technological creativity…

* * *

"_And it's day three in the search for little Kiko Mayuhari. Mr. and Mrs. Mayuhari had another conference with Channel Five early this morning. They swear they won't go back home until they have her. What was supposed to be a fun family trip to the Big Apple turned into a fiasco when she disappeared in the Coney Island theme park just three days ago. If anyone has any information please call the tip line at one-eight hundred-five-three-five-seven-two-eight-four. Thank you, this is Chad Fontaine for Channel Five."_

Jezebelle blinked her eyes, the noise from the pre-taped interview with the grieving parents muted due to her thought-based focus. How sad. People were missing her, and she was gone…they had no idea where to look but they were probably right above her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, something crawling away from the fuzzy memories, coming back with loud, yelling clarity. _They have her_, Jezebelle thought, _there's no doubt in my mind that they have that little girl._

Goose bumps crawled across her skin, fur standing up. She sank to the floor, curling up and pressing her ears down into her hair so she wouldn't have to hear it. Her own voice was so loud!

"_Please! Please let me out, you've made a mistake! I'm supposed to be at Columbia, we were sight-seeing! I know this isn't part of the tour; you let me out, right now! Now you son of a bitch!" the man leered down at her. He'd told her he was the guide, and had taken her across the street from the campus to get a hot dog, because it was the "food of New York!" and she'd gone. She'd gone without her aunt because she was eighteen…an adult. With a new life, and it was time to handle things like an adult. His grip on her arm had been so hard…it still pulsed in pain._

_That hot dog he'd fed her wasn't normal. She still felt sick, but not a 'food poisoning' sick. A _drugged, not functioning_ sick was more the kind she felt brewing sourly in the pit of her stomach. It mixed with fear to make a deadly emotional cocktail._

_Her feeble human hands gripped the cage, and tried to shake it. "My name is Jezebelle Anetta Lincoln, and I refuse to be here! You remember my name, remember it for when you get charged with kidnapping! People will pick up real quick that I'm missing, and you'll be sorry! The name Lincoln will put you in jail, pal!" _

"No…no, no! Let me out of here…I…I need to get back home. This is wrong!"

"Hey, hey! _Wake up_!"

"REOWR!" she shot up in the air, hissing and spitting, landing with completely raised fur atop the couch. Jezebelle cuffed at Michelangelo's re-adorned head and growled, hunkering low and clutching the couch like a life line.

"You were wigging out, dudette. I just wanted to help…"

"Where is she? That girl mutant?"

"Hanging out in Raph's room, where else?" she remembered the smell of her from the kitchen. Jezebelle hopped off the couch, on the prowl, and trotted swiftly through the lair so she could locate the smell, sniffing rapidly like a bloodhound. Pressed low to the ground for speed she shuttled around the stone home, stopping at a closed door, pawing at it curiously.

"Don't scratch!" a female voice reprimanded after Jezebelle gave a few loud test scrapes. No doubt. That girl was in here. Maeleyn poked her head out of the door, rock music wafting softly from the room.

"You…you knew my name. I…I believe you." Jezebelle stood; the unfaltering look of belief in her eyes. Maeleyn's eyes widened. "I…I was screaming from a cage. That man…he…I was sight-seeing and he gave me a hot dog. It was bad and I…I remember screaming 'my name is Jezebelle Anetta Lincoln, and I refuse to be here!'." the cat woman shook and Maeleyn threw her arms around her, as if she was saving her. She was hugging a friend that hadn't been seen, hugged, helped, in two years. "That little girl on the TV…somehow I remembered being caught…maybe because she's missing. And when I was missing, I was there…"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Donnie threw the science magazine aside and stood up, quieting the two chattering women. "You had a triggered flashback?"

"I remembered being in the cage…for the first time." Jezebelle looked at Donatello with wide eyes, unsure of what he was getting at. Her ears flicked nervously into Maeleyn's hair and she shrunk into her so-called friend. He was getting a crazy look in his eyes!

"Yes, yes that's a triggered flashback. Maybe your experiences aren't as repressed as I thought. Would you mind coming into the lab with me? It's remarkable you would even want to let yourself see them but I think, subconsciously, you want to remember them so you can stop the person who did this to you."

"Or the people," Maeleyn added. Rose, Stockman, and Shredder hadn't worked alone one year ago…she had no doubt that whoever was behind this was working alone now, either. It just didn't fit the evil villain mentality.

"A _lab_? You have a _lab_? Hell no I'm not going into one of those again! You can't make me!" Jezebelle slammed herself on her stomach and latched on to the bottom of Raphael's door. The wood creaked at the pressure of her claws bearing into the old, salvaged wood.

"Please, it's for beneficial purposes!"

"That's what they said!" Jezebelle spat at him. "And it turns out that doesn't mean beneficial to _me_!" she pointed out. Donnie faltered a bit, Maeleyn already trying to pull her off the bottom of the door. Of course…why would she trust anyone that had a lab?

"If you come with me I promise you, I can show you that I'm not going to hurt you! I'm not like those people!" Jezebelle's arms strained to maintain the hold on the door. Raphael, the red-wearing one that used so much profanity around her, was trying to open the door from the other side. He was trying to make her lose her grip. The hotheaded brother had just enough slack on the door to peer out and see two people trying to wrestle her off his door. This was amusing…Maeleyn glowered at him.

"Raph!" she hissed with a grunt, trying to heave Jezebelle up, her arms locked around her abdomen, "Don't smile, it'll encourage her!"

"I just think it's funny you and brain boy over there can't lift her. OW!" Jezebelle hadn't slipped but after she and Donnie heard his teasing they decided to pull Jezebelle in such a way that her force would cause his door to slam on his fingers. The brainiac grinned with Maeleyn. "Leo! Leo! _Please _come over here and explain to her that my lab isn't like the lab she came from!" the eldest brother peered at what'd happened in the noon hour. He'd been in the dojo for an hour but obviously this had occurred at the end of his training or he would've been disturbed by such a ruckus. She yowled, displeased, as they continued to pull on her; her ears pulled back in concentration as she glared at the door, digging her claws into it as Raphael tried to pry her fingers off of it from the other side.

"Donnie's right," Leo tried simply, "he's our house doctor. Do you think we'd let him even go near a pair of needles if he had bad intentions?"

"He wouldn't hurt you because you're his kind! You're his family!"

"Maeleyn's not direct family, but he doesn't hurt her…"

"She's a reptile, like all of you!"

"Do you think we'll hurt you because you're not a reptile?" he asked curiously. Just what had they done to her? Was there some sort of animal discrimination where she'd escaped from?

"You stick with your family, your clan. They help you out. They separate you by species in there, so you learn to love your species! _They're_ your family, they help you!"

"Making barriers instead of merging…" Donnie noted. That would certainly influence the suspicion that you could only trust another of your species. Those workers probably didn't want a multi-animal mutiny so if they sectioned them and maintained them as broken pieces there was no chance of rebelling because each "clan" as she called it had their own weakness. If your whole family is weak to something then you have to remain docile so there's no repeated exposure. After all, no one wants to lose their family; when caged the family sticks together, tighter than ever because one never knows when they'll be taken away from you.

"Get away from me candle boy! Don't you touch me!" Leo was trying to slip his leg under her to push her hand down, to force her palm off the bottom of the door but it wasn't working. She was kicking him in the face, mashing the furry foot on his cheek with enough force to detain him, not to hurt him. Her leg muscles strained in the obvious hint she didn't want him to interfere and she didn't want to be pulled off the door.

"Candle boy…" he could hear Raph snicker from the other side of the door.

"Shut up Raph, you could help us you know!"

"Mikey, Mikey come here! Tickle her in the ribs, she hates being tickled!"

"What? No! No! Mikey don't you touch me!"

"Aww, is little kitty mad? Well little kitty's all stuck under the door so you can't really stop me, can you?"

"Oh I'll stop you!" Leo grinned. Wow…Mikey actually was effective in his annoyingness. Her claws glistened, somewhat longer than her fur in their slipping-out state and Mikey giggled at her. Jezebelle's golden eyes widened at the sight of her free hands. Raph swung open the door, laughing, as Leo began to struggle to detain the flailing cat woman.

"If you'll please—please, if I could get you to-pfft! Pfft!" Jezebelle was content with swiping her tail across Leo's mouth since he'd detained her by wrapping his two arms across her, pinning her to his body. She was curled around his neck like some sort of stole; one arm holding her shoulders and the other holding her hips. He was getting fur in there, or feared he was, and continued to pop his chin up, to avoid the appendage, as to not get stuck with hair in his mouth.

"What's a matter fearless? Can't handle a kitten?"

"I am not a kitten, sir! I am a full-grown woman!"

"Well I'm gonna call you a kitten, okay? Deal with it."

"And I'm going to call you an ass hole, how 'bout that? Deal with it."

"Was she always like this?" Raphael asked Maeleyn, pointing to the sweetly sarcastic, confident, smile on her face. Maeleyn grinned brightly, nodding.

"Lincoln's mouth sometimes got her in trouble but she knew how to talk shit back. That deserves a fist-pound. Right here." Maeleyn held her hand out and Jezebelle bumped it with her tail for the time being. Raph gave her a flat look.

"Wow you toss me out fast…" he muttered amusedly. She batted her eyes at him.

"But you know I love you!"

"I don't see how…he smells atrocious." Leo bit his lip. Wow. All that fear and paranoia seemed gone. She seemed…normal. Happy. It was actually kind of funny to hear his brother being burned by a cat woman. She was so nonchalant about it.

"You're ridiculous. He smells _manly_," Maeleyn corrected, patting Raphael's arm. He flushed a little, Mikey's prolonged 'awww!' not helping.

"Whatever you say." Jezebelle rolled her eyes as Leo stepped side ways to get her through the doorway to Donnie's lab. The genius was turning on the machine he'd made four months ago. More or less it was a memory formulator that could double as an extractor; it was made to help them cope with any residual nightmares concerning Rilien dying in the Foot headquarters, or anything prior to that nasty day. So far it worked like a dream; the unnamed machine had the ability to monitor the stimulated neurons when the user focused and tap into the 'dreaming' part of the brain to archive the dream as a video he could go back and research later (for behavioral diagnosis and for reflection of the person who made it). If her memories had finally broken through, or if she let them, maybe they could pinpoint who this 'boss' was and really hit them where it hurts!

Or kill them, whichever was most effective. Don felt a little uneasy about murdering because of his pacifist nature but he saw this as a very effective means to end this. He knew Leo was thinking about it; he could tell by the change in his dear brother's eyes…they were much darker now. Leonardo thought harder, polished his katanas a little slower as he drew those thoughts of unjust actions together, trying to fish out the culprit in his head. Whoever had done this to Jezebelle had made a grave mistake right off the bat…

Leonardo had very few but very _touchy _subjects, one of them was family (as seen in the way he fussed over them when a bandage was required or a stitching needed). They'd forced this girl—no, this woman, she was at least twenty by Maeleyn's claim—to bear a child, and separated her from it just to kill her because they didn't need her. That child needed her, and Donnie could tell Leo thought about the little boy; what person wouldn't think of the allegedly now-orphaned child when its mother was staying in their home? It gnawed angrily on his honor like a starving dog on a bone, and Donnie could see the shadows play across his face when the candle lit, drawing him back to a time when Leo had gone berserker and sought out the Ancient One for further training when shame and rage threatened to overtake him. Long ago he learned to turn that burning shame into motivation for training, learned to cope with things he couldn't control, but that didn't mean he didn't think about them.

This happened to be one of those things. Leo couldn't control that she'd had a child, or that she had even been kidnapped in the first place but he could do something about it now. Usually when Leo's 'touchy subjects' were touched something did happen to resolve the matter, and it resolved it _permanently_. Don shook his head, trying not to think of his elder brother having any more capability than he already did to kill. He liked to think of him as nice and quiet, like he already was, but there was always latent possibility; he could never forget that. Leonardo finally unwound Jezebelle from his neck and she stretched her limbs, popping them, needing something—_anything_—to do to reverse the intense uneasiness she felt being in a lab.

Just the word gave her reason to fear. Her fur was a grand standing needle show, raised up and prominent by unseen magnetism. After all the cracking was done she began to purr, kneading the edge of Donnie's table uncertainly as he motioned for her to hold her chin up, strapping on the helmet, brushing her ears to the side so they wouldn't get pinched."It's not going to electrocute you," he promised her; "all it does it record your memories and let me archive them. It'll let me watch them, too, like a video. I'm thinking it'll help you remember the stuff you're blocking out." she looked up at the machine on her head and swallowed. It looked like some souped up bicycle helmet. "Then we can catch the person that did this, and keep them from doing it to anyone else…" he promised, hoping that would ease her a bit.

"Now you're going to hear a whirring noise but it's just the machine starting up." Donnie looked towards the screen, hope bloating him. Why wasn't anything showing up? He checked the machine and monitor quickly to make sure it was on. "It…it's on. Please, think something."

"I…I…" Jezebelle clutched the table hard. She felt lightheaded. Now that she was _trying _to think of something all of the fears, the thoughts, seemed to run away. To Jezebelle the fear, the emotions of the many varying memories could be felt but she, herself, felt too scared to think back to what caused them. It would be too real, then, she'd have to watch it and hear it all over again.

"Jezebelle…it's okay. It's okay to think about those nightmares now. They can't get you, they'll just be recorded. I really do think this will help you cope with everything." Donnie eased, rubbing her arm, trying to get her to relax. The cat mutant's breath was deep and fast, her chest fluttering like a live-beating heart.

"I…I can't. I…" she kneaded the edge of the table again. Why? Why couldn't she? Where to start? God she didn't want to hear that voice again!

"What is such cause for this collection in your lab, Donatello? I was wondering why the lair was quiet." Splinter hobbled in curiously, looking at the family in the lab. The young girl…cat…on the table stared back at him with widening pupils, _watching him_, waiting to clock every individual motion, remembering it. He refused to let petty animal nature convince his body to show signs of startle; he was a wise mutated rat, and his sons were here to enforce protection. She lowered her body on the table, claws draped tightly over the edge of Donatello's work table and Splinter twitched his whiskers, waiting for her to lunge at him like he expected. That explained the odd smell he'd been noticing around the lair, and Donatello _had _told him it would be in his best interest (politely enough) to wait until the new guest was settled.

Now he could see why. She was scared, the rat master could see, and it made sense with what Donatello had told him about them finding her. Who wouldn't be scared and want to attack every new face when they'd been thrown off a dock, left to drown? Raphael and Leo instantly grabbed her out-pointed claws as she showed them, long and sharp and separate from her fur; they gleamed in the light. His two eldest sons held her to the table and she shook her head like she was being shocked; twitching, jerking. _Fighting her impulses? _Splinter wondered curiously, stepping closer into the room which increased the strength of the odd behavior.

"Mikey come help us holder, just in case."

"No, Mikey, don't!" Don held out his hands to stop the little brother.

"Whaddya mean 'don't!' Donnie? She might try to fillet Splinter!"

"She's having a _flashback _Raph; she's not trying to hurt him! Look at her eyes, they're closed now, aren't they?" curiously, cautiously, the second-eldest peeked down. He didn't want to get scratched in the face! Her eyelids were indeed clapped down over her yellow eyes and he pulled back, giving a slight nod to his brainy brother. Behind her the machine whirred and struggled to find the image frequency for her. Finally, it found it.

_A white lab rat skittered just in front of the watching eyes on the large, smooth cream-colored table. "No, don't kill it!" the pale-vanilla hand and the little rat just avoided the wooden mallet and the resounding crack of the wood against the table made them flinch due to the clarity of the sound. _Jezebelle flinched against Donnie's lab table, jerking her head back, trying to back away from the sharp sound. It hurt her ears, it hurt! "Meow…meow…_me_ow!" she didn't like this.

He said it wouldn't hurt her! But she could remember it so _clearly_! It did hurt, it did hurt! She couldn't say anything though, the boss was there. The boss wouldn't listen, anyways.

"_Ugh, your predatory skills are lacking…and to think I reengineered you to be perfect. To be one of them, to have the killing instincts! You're so disappointing!" the male voice growled. For a second the eyes _(they were seeing through her eyes, after all) _tried to look up and identify the boss but the eyes were forced to look down again, sharply, indicating someone was behind her to make sure she did as she was told._

"_Ow!" the rat crawled uncertainly around the table again, the wooden mallet out of the picture._

"_Kill it!"_

"_No, it's a living creature! It didn't do anything to you!"_

"_I said _kill it_!"_

"_I _said _no!"_

"_Give me your hand, stupid bitch! I'll teach you to disobey me! Remember what he told you? Let me show you what happens to "bad pussy"." a steel hand shot out and grabbed her hand from across the table, the joints glinting nicely in the lights. A finely crafted hand, she could see her face in it, and it wasn't thin or bony. Thick, strong. The mallet struck again, the usual crack of an echo muffled by bones and newly turned flesh. It hit again, and again, and again._

"_REOW! REOW! REOW! Rrrrr!" the pale hand was turning red, bruising, swelling. _Jezebelle tried to jerk her hand away, refusing to open her eyes. If she did she'd see the lab table, and the little white rat freaking out, and the metal hand around hers! Her hand pulsed in pain, the echoes of the mallet on her right hand causing a reawakened pain to bloat the hand, send it tingling, and coaxing tears from her eyes. It hurt!

The mallet sound kept replaying. Over and over! She began to breathe through her clenched teeth and jaw as best she could, her vocal chords vibrating with muffled yowls of pain. _Endure, endure, you can do this!_ Jezebelle thought. She felt light headed…whether it was from the pain or the breathing she couldn't discern.

It almost felt like her heart stopped. Jezebelle quit breathing, finally finding detachment from the noises, the sensation of pain, as she rolled to her side. The image fizzled out with a loud, electrical zap. She'd stopped thinking, possibly unconscious. "Donnie," Mikey asked, kind of worried because both of his older brothers were now trying to wake her up, to see why her head had lolled over the edge of the lab table.

She was so still.

"Donnie…why isn't she moving?"

"Relax, Mikey, I think she just had a fear-induced blackout."

"What?" Leo breathed at him, voice barely above a whisper, obviously angry as he and Raphael finally worked the helmet off of her chin and set her head back on the work table with the rest of her. "You mean from _shock _because she _relived _an experience?" he asked rhetorically, sarcastically, with his arms folded across his plastron. This was a bad idea, he knew it! She wasn't ready!

"I didn't know she was going to pass out!"

"Gee, when she tells you she doesn't think she can do this and you con her into doing it anyways I expect bad results. C'mon, Donnie, use your _head _here, bro!"

"Excuse me, Leonardo, I didn't _con _her. If she didn't want to do it she wouldn't have focused. Obviously she trusts us—_me_—enough to try. It's better she gets these memories out anyways, or they'll torment her a lot more than if she keeps them inside!" Donatello countered, glaring at him. It was one thing to question his work but another to question _him _entirely. The fact Leonardo used the word "con" didn't help, either. Don didn't dare listen to the voice that said 'I can see why he's worried, he'd do the same for us if it was _us _on the table instead of her' because his resistance would crumble.

He wasn't about to be blamed for this, he was trying to help! Leo had no right to paint him a guiltless tyrant!

"No more of this until she's better. Until _she _says so, Don, end of story." Leo lifted her from the table, marching away to lay her on the couch. She needed rest, needed a place without fear. That's why they were a home, a refuge, and he wasn't about to let Donatello spoil that idea. Sure Donnie was only trying to help but it's not _help _if it makes the refugee pass out. Leo scowled at his little brother, sensing the pissy little brother glare and tucked her into the couch. Donnie could be as pissy, pouty and wounded as he liked; he wasn't going to bend on this.

That was his belief, and he'd stand by it. This was her nightmare; she needed to deal with it on _her _time. The evil glare was maintained as Leo grabbed a candle, lit it, and finally disappeared into the dojo. As soon as he lit the candle he could feel a seed of guilt in him; he could see his brother's reason for coaxing those memories forth. Leo wanted to catch the enemy as soon as any of them, but if it was at her expense—a mother who'd lost a child, lost herself, lost her family—speed shouldn't be the main priority.

She should be.

Jasmine fusing with sandalwood escaped into his nostrils and he sighed, relaxing his shoulders. He could already see this not ending well. Despite what was an inevitably growing web made by the enemy (enemies _might be more correct_, he thought) Leo knew his hardest trial to overcome, the toughest enemy—as in the training with the Ancient One—would be himself. Leo frowned, gradually getting lost to the astral plane with the aid of the scents, and remembered his last line of thoughts before he finally broke the astral plane, leaving all physical sensations behind. _The Art of War__ can't really help me now, can it? How does one have war with themselves? Who wins?_


	4. Chapter 4

Nirvana

**Newer 'AN': SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATE! OMG, there's no excuse really, or explanation other than this has been on the back burner but I am paying a little bit more attention to this now and it should get updated interchangeably with **_Nerd Support _**so since I just updated that I'm working on this. I've had this "almost done" for a while. I think as part of my regret and since the update has been so long I'll give you guys **_two _**chapters today (or try to).**

**AN: Thanks to **Scribe of Turesa **for reviewing chapter three. I would've posted this sooner (would've updated sooner, period, on anything) but life's been a little crazy. Plus I've been doing Christmas shopping and refining, planning, how this story will go. I don't think it'll be anywhere NEAR as long as **_Enigma _**but I could be wrong. Not sure on that, perhaps it'll map out that way. Anyhoo, here's chapter four! Thanks to all my readers and reviewers for being so patient for the next installment!**

"You're sure this is her?" Kier whispered curiously as Maeleyn dared enter the dojo at eight A.M. the next day while Jezebelle slept. The dojo seemed to be her bed of choice. To the mutant reptile hybrid it seemed too impossible not to be her, so she finally decided—confirmed—it was her and took action. That action was to have her father see her, too, and write a letter. The Lincolns would take a letter from her father much more seriously than one from her (they'd think she was still grieving and possibly delusional).

Maeleyn swung the picture around, one she had copied from the album her father had brought back from Rhode Island, and put it up next to the sleeping cat mutant's face, careful not to disturb her. In the photo the hair color was different (but she dyed her hair often, Kier had to remind himself) but the face was too similar. Some features had been softened or completely taken away by the mutation but her human qualities matched too well. From Maeleyn's fifteenth birthday party he could see a shot she'd taken with Jezebelle passed out sleeping at the foot of the bed, her face cocked to the left and submerged into a pillow; despite the marker-made heart, smiley face, and mustache he could see one half of it was her. He was sure of it.

"You can't tell me it's not her." Maeleyn looked at him solemnly and he shook his head. He'd have to agree; though the nose was softer, looked less human and out-pointing from a profile view it _was_ her.

"Are you going to tell her?" Kier asked his daughter, Maeleyn shrugged. He watched her skirt her fingers lovingly over the top of Jezebelle's head like an older sister. There was a lot of deliberation there, he knew, and a lot of weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, she could know that people _had _looked for her once upon a time; that they loved her, and on the other hand, she could learn they had stopped looking for her. Gave her a memoriam…assumed her dead. "I don't think she'd want to know…"

They'd gotten a replacement. That in itself was a good reason—if not the _only _one—not to tell her about her parents. No child should ever have to learn their own parents had given their identity to a new child, an adopted one, because the parents missed them or lost them. It would be much too much on her system, and perhaps her mental state. But as her parents they did have the right to know she'd been found…but would they believe him?

"Well, I think _they'd _want to know. I wanted to know about you when Rilien told me you went missing. I didn't care that you'd been mutated." he offered quietly, ruffling his daughter's head of hair affectionately. Maeleyn sighed; squeezing her eyes shut softly. This was a lot more complicated than she thought; it wasn't easy guarding a friend—a sister—from her past, and it felt all too alien to be playing a parent and censoring what she could know. Kier left her to debate with herself, careful to be silent as he exited the dojo. Maeleyn let the auburn strand of hair go and sighed, rising from her knees, following him.

If she knew her father she knew he was going to write that letter anyways. "Don't write the letter at the house, just in case she goes on a memory trip and wants to see it…even if it's not the real house."

"I wasn't," Kier followed her line of thought that nostalgia could unlock scenes of her more recent memories and grinned slightly; almost aghast that she thought he would do such a thing. "I was going to use April's shop as a safe place. She hasn't met them yet."

"Leo and Raph want her to meet them but we're strongly assuming meeting people—humans—isn't on her list at the moment."

"Let the kid rest, Mae. She needs it. I'll call and let you know when I drop the letter off, okay?" he kissed her head.

"Be careful." Maeleyn told him as he headed for the elevator, preferring not to go through the sewer muck. She peeked back into the dojo to see her friend hadn't yet stirred but merely rolled over and stretched out one leg. It was two hours past the morning training and she felt odd, with little to do. Cuddling with Raph was always an option but she felt too keyed up for that; a weird anticipation stretched her body taut. Something was going on, or something was coming, and she was suspicious.

Maybe it was due to the training or maybe it was intuition but something was up, and something bad. "She sleeping still?" Mikey asked curiously, trying to see past her. The sandwich in his hand told her he'd come from the kitchen. Maeleyn nodded and Mikey shook his head incredulously. "She sure sleeps a lot…you think she'd like to see the city?"

"What?" Maeleyn looked at him curiously, suspiciously for the random though. Sure Mikey had the best intentions and was a _regular _cat lover by default but this was no regular cat he was suggesting to set loose around the city. This was a _person_, her best friend. "Maybe…" Maeleyn finally conceded, "but only if she wants. We shouldn't force her."

"Well duh, then Leo will be on _my _tail and I don't want that. I just thought, you know, it'd distract her or something. Take her mind off her kid and everything…"

"What makes you care so much?" teased Maeleyn though she knew the answer. Or hoped she did anyways. Mikey could simply be projecting his playful, affectionate, emotions onto her because she was so cat-like and he loved Klunk entirely too much, almost like a child. That was her theory, anyways; it could be possible, though, Mikey felt inclined to be nice to her due to her current state and be the type of guy—turtle—to be sucked into the person crafted by the guilt and traumatic past. Either way she'd have to watch him and make sure he wasn't getting into her—if that was the case—for the wrong reasons.

"Good thought but we'd have to see. I mean…she's not even comfortable with Splinter yet."

"She doesn't _have _to be comfortable with Splinter. He doesn't go with us. She just has to be willing to hop around the city."

"Who has to be willing to hop around the city?" a sleepy voice inquired. For a second Maeleyn and Mikey immediately thought the inquiry to be Leo's but when they watched Jezebelle pull from a rather satisfying ground stretch as her ears flicked to and fro they relaxed.

"You," Mikey simply grinned. "Don't you wanna see Manhattan? You know, get a gist of where you're living now?"

"I'm not living here," said Jezebelle matter-of-factly. Mikey quirked an eye ridge.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Having a temporary stay in an underground living area occupied by other creatures. Home doesn't have to be a place to live; it's a place where you can find the people that love you."

"And you don't think you're home?" he asked curiously after gathering from her last comment that she failed to see them as family…home, safe.

"I haven't been home in years…I think this is hardly the place to start." whispered Jezebelle as she pawed at her ear. These people…creatures…weren't really her family! Then again, whoever was back home must not be either. She hadn't heard from any other "Lincolns" in a long time. To avoid the awkward conversation and slight disappointment that she wasn't as outwardly affectionate as he was Mikey gestured to the side room where they kept any extra clothes they could get their hands on.

"We'll need to dress you up a bit so you don't freeze."

"I have fur," grumbled Jezebelle, "I'm fine."

"But you'll still need coverage. We haven't been caught yet but you still look mostly human so we're just going to play off of that. " he gave her a ratty old hat that still looked usable, one April had gotten off a flea market spree and plopped it on her head. The sheer grape-purple of it made her white robe she'd been wearing for the last few days very bright, and second place to the fraying hat. "And last year after the storm died down April ordered Maeleyn a trench coat like we have. Extras were ordered, too, we never know how long they'll last on us. This one is…Maeleyn's, it should be the closest fit."

"What storm?" asked Jezebelle as she stuck her arms into the trench coat, shaking the extra fabric down which caused the sleeves to totally swallow her arms. Mikey frowned a little; best not stir that back up yet.

"A figurative storm," he replied, trying to figure out what else she might need. Jezebelle buttoned the coat up and looked at him. The arms of the trench coat went way past her own but even Mikey knew fingers could catch attention; while they could play her off as an amputee easier than they, themselves could, it'd be best to dress them up. "Angel had some gloves here once…where are they?" he rummaged through a collected sock pile that had birthed from Casey or April using their washing machine when the one at the shop went wonky (they had to clean their masks and elbow pads, after all), hoping they'd be with the unclaimed clothes. "Here,"

"The coat goes past my arms, I don't need gloves!"

"You'd think so," Donatello watched the mess gradually destroying the room with slight interest (Mikey was going to have to clean it _all _up meaning the lair would be quiet for a while when they came back), "but the rooftops are cold and since you appear to insist on walking on all fours you'd want the gloves. Ice might prevent you from functioning as you normally would." Jezebelle sneered at the idea of gloves. She knew her claws wouldn't work in the material and she'd just be fighting the tangles. Plus—she didn't know how many times she'd have to say it—she had fur, so why go the extra measure? But then again…they were only looking out for her.

Making sure she didn't stick to the rooftop and all…almost like the other cats in her 'family'. The least she could do was comply since they _did _keep her from drowning. Then again…what good was a life without your child? "Alright," Jezebelle relented, "I'll wear the stupid gloves."

"Good, now we need to find you some shoes…or slippers because—" Jezebelle gave him a stern 'no way!' look. "Never mind." Mikey quickly banished the idea of suggesting shoes. "You're good." she rolled up the long sleeve of the trench coat and examined the studded gloves. Sloppy handiwork made her think of a teen or growing child learning how to sew; for the most part these gloves were black, and originally fingerless, but crude purple finger strips had been sewn onto the end, giving them a very ragged, odd look. They were useful, though.

Jezebelle took to slicing a small end section near the fingertips off; the pads of her fingers needed to be free so she could use her claws and walk normally (or what she considered to be normal). Her winter protectors were just going to have to deal with some modification. "So now what?"

"We wait until midnight." Leonardo said simply, sipping green tea and carrying a kettle off into a far room. _Must be that rat's room, his smell is everywhere in this house. On them…_Jezebelle couldn't deny it was in her new set of instincts to seek out the rat. Find him. Chew on him, wound him, but she was fighting those. After all, she wasn't entirely cat; there was humaneness in her.

She'd like to think her humaneness hadn't left her, anyways. "Right…" she whispered, enthusiasm swiftly dwindling and dying like an ember. "Midnight…" that was hours away, at least ten, but then again, they could decide to go out early. Jezebelle stretched out across the stone floor, flat on her stomach and parallel to the coffee table, sighing. She rolled to her side, laying on one arm and the other reaching out towards the coffee table. "Wake me when it's time…"

Leo peeked at her from over his tea cup. What an interesting creature…human _turned _creature. Animal creature, like him, just not his species. Constantly sleeping, late into the hours of the morning, near noon of the day. He wasn't sure if the routine was established after having that weight lifted off of her, being away from the base, or if it was just her nature; he was betting on the former.

Her tail didn't seem to care that the rest of her was perfectly still; it swayed to and fro, arching off the floor at various heights. "Leo! Quit staring at her butt!" Mikey, just to be obnoxious and take advantage of a rare opportunity to pull one over the eldest demanded loudly, causing Leo to nearly spit his tea. Oh the many ways he could kill his brother! Mikey giggled insanely and Leo felt his cheeks warm. Jezebelle's ears pressed back into her hair and she shot up, twisting at an odd angle, narrowed eyes pinning the two.

"I wasn't-!" Leo began to object, trying to stammer something more intelligent and plausible.

"Weak, Mikey, weak. So stupid…" muttered the cat mutant, annoyed that she'd been caught off guard and fell victim to such a lame, sudden shout. Probably wasn't even true. From what she'd been witnessing of the household this Leo guy was more priest-like than pervert; dedicated to his practices like a monk but observant and guarding of people like a deity from above. Mikey on the other hand…

Who'd like a cat mutant anyways? Her bone structure and range of motion had been completely changed by Misellus Corp, and her fingers and toes were much different than there…well, in texture. They had the same number of fingers, she noticed, but not toes. Jezebelle, herself, felt like she had too much emotional baggage to maintain a good relationship. She blew out another sigh, aware of the noises of the other occupants.

She could never go to sleep unless it was dark, which she found odd because she hated the depth of the lightless blanket. Yet, unless it was dark this house didn't sleep. Donatello was working; she could hear him laying down various sized tools that emitted different sounds as they knocked against the wood surface of his desk. Raphael was in the dojo beating something, the fall of his fists or foot muffled by the item and turned into thick, small sounds fading within seconds before the new strike. Mikey was channel surfing, he gave little grunts of disapproval or interest at every click of the remote, a second or two of fizz filling in between whatever clip of noise-making show was scheduled for the half-hour.

And Leo, Leo just sat there. She could hear him clearest, though, because she had to concentrate to find his noises. The eldest ninja of the house was quiet, being respectful to his brothers, and sipping the tea. His sips were nearly silent as his green lips met the liquid and her ear flicked impatiently to hear something. He hardly moved in his seat, either, every minute or so she'd hear an exhale into the cup because it stirred the contents but other than that, he was mouse quiet. Once his cup was finished she could hear the odd sound of his tongue across his lip, probably the way he and his kind cleaned themselves after drinking, and she listened to the chair squeak as he stood.

Katana sheaths clacked together as he picked up his weapons and headed for the dojo. Only after he was gone did she fully rise from the floor and steal his chair. Out of habit she sniffed the chair, taking in his scent before she even considered fully stepping into the chair; the terrapin may be cold blooded by nature but there was a certain warmth still left in the groove and she would take it. Jezebelle purred at the softer texture of the chair and kneaded the arms for a second or two before collapsing into the center and curling up.

This was much better than a cage.

* * *

Tigger flexed his ears; bright brown eyes watching the figure pass the cage. The sight of the coat, the flawless hair, cold, cruel smile stirred rage in him, nothing else. Memories flashed of the gurney, the whirring saw, beeping monitors and the weeks of stitches and confined movements. He growled, stretching a thick arm through the bar and reaching as best he could, which wasn't far at all considering his wrist got caught. His son was led out by the thin coil of metal strapped to the end of the catching cane that enabled the figure to stay at a safe distance.

Where was he going? His son dragged a little; bright eyes sleepy and looking around in hazy wonderment like a child just out of a dream. The cub stood up on his back legs and nibbled his father's fuzzy finger through the cage. "Come on." until the wire gave a visible part to the fur of his neck the cub didn't move. His little claws scraped and clacked across the floor and Tigger watched the two leave.

Just what was going on? The whine of a buzz saw met his ears and Tigger roared out in anguish, masking a child's cry of utter pain. That bitch…he would kill her.

* * *

The snow had yet to fall and wouldn't for a few more weeks but the utter cold Jezebelle felt made it seem like it was snowing. Her claws scraped against the cold concrete of the rooftops, causing her to spin crookedly once or twice before she could launch to the next roof and she disliked the nearly paralyzing feeling of cold in the most intimate nerves of her claws. She wasn't trained for cold weather and had never been exposed to it during her stay in the hell-hole she'd finally escaped from. "You know what you remind me of?" Mikey didn't need to ask; Jezebelle pressed her ears back against her hair in a peeved manner. He'd been making clumsy cat jokes since midnight when the patrol began, and ten roofs later he still hadn't run out of comparisons. "That cat on _Americas Funnies Videos _that got scared by that bull mastiff and tried to run across polished linoleum."

"Hush or I'll take you off the roof with me." she warned, golden eyes narrowed at him. He blew a raspberry to her and skipped off across the gap. Jezebelle eyed the gap cautiously just like the ones before and backed up a few inches before running forward and leaping the gap. Leonardo thought it was oddly intriguing to see her leap into the air, looking to jump directly in the center of the large moon temporarily bathed in ethereal silver light. It turned her vanilla-similar kin a whitish-silver which washed the skin of her face the same color, and those yellow eyes that were now making a presence around the home turned a stunning golden.

The play of shadows and light often intrigued him. It was his lifestyle; to utilize both elements and to see how fluidly and suddenly people could disappear and reappear was always stunning, no matter who it was. Even the forms of his brothers astounded him when they darted in and out of darkness. "Hey…do you smell that?" she paused halfway across the rooftop and the turtle brothers, even Maeleyn, looked around curiously. Nothing out of the ordinary, even in the alleyway she was scrutinizing, sinking her claws as best she could into the concrete grooves of the building side and leaning over.

"I smell a cat." Jezebelle told them before giving her hind quarters a wiggle and jumping down to carefully navigate the garbage. Raphael rolled his eyes and resisted dragging her back up to the roof by her curling, lazily lashing tail. The last three trips like this had just rouse alley cats out and a small cat-based conversation happened before she trotted away to hook up with the group again.

"It's probably just another stupid alley cat." Raph warned her. Man he wanted someone to bash. The uy7777777

"It's probably just another stupid alley cat." Raph warned her. Man he wanted someone to bash. The night had been relatively dead. For most human in Manhattan it was getting too cold for night outings, and some were asleep by now. If Raph had to guess even the low-life criminals were hiding out and keeping their feet warm somewhere.

"Oh my god! Oh my—I don't believe it! Oh honey, mommy missed you!" Jezebelle quickly and happily returned with a dangling cub hanging by the extra fur at the back of its neck. Maeleyn's lips twitched in a smile. Jezebelle looked about as happy as a kid opening presents on Christmas day.

"Is this…your baby?" Donnie hesitated to get close to the newfound mutant but found it astounding the cub was alive. They had yet to learn how the two got separated and Don desperately wanted to know how the cub escaped since his mother had been thrown in the water. Maybe there was more than one exit for this new, functioning lab. He could see the clear tiger influence on the cub by the thickness of his orange fur and slight pattern markings; but he could see Jezebelle's influence, too, instead of a pure white stomach the cub had a vanilla-colored stomach. The brown of his eyes had a tinge of yellow, suggesting they might change as he grew older.

"Yes," Jezebelle grinned widely, still unable to believe it herself, "this is him. My Orion, my little Orion." he purred into her breasts, the mother crouched down on all fours and the cub tucked in between her arms.

"No offense," Mikey said nervously as he saw the cub yawn and glimpsed at the sharp teeth in his mouth, "but that kid's not little."

"I know, he's gotten much heavier than I remembered!" Jezebelle gushed, affectionately running her claws through the fur on his ears. He'd gained more fur than when she last saw him. "They must've given him an accelerant when they thought they killed me. They give it to all the separated babies as a means to keep them living. Some are given it so they can bypass the stage where they're dependent on the parent; it helps the experiments see those uncouth handlers as the primary caregiver instead."

"They who?" Don asked. Jezebelle continued to thread Orion's fur, causing the cub to purr, ears flicking to and fro in thought.

"The people…the handlers. The—" it was right there on the tip of her tongue! Who was it! Jezebelle felt like she knew the end of that sentence, and felt as if the words were almost in reach. "I…" began the mutant cat as she started to deny her confused mind and the turtles of knowing anything other than what she'd just said, but something stopped her. She had that feeling of seeing and feeling those words rise up again, like she was touching on a hidden memory.

_Pawing nervously at the glace she paused to stare at her own reflection. They had really done it, hadn't they? That blonde bitch had warned her they could but Jezebelle still couldn't believe it. All the things she knew of science from school flew out the window at the sheer Frankenstein-like procedures these people did without a care. She had once been human, she remembered quite clearly, but the experiments they'd done had switched the very category she was once a part of from "homo sapien" to "animal"._

_Her nose hardly protruded from the side of her face when attempting to stare at her reflected profile and the texture of her skin was no longer real skin, but the illusion of skin. She had fur near the same color as her own human skin but this new skin was warmer…fuzzier. Beneath her naked body her heart pounded strongly like a hammer pounding in four-four, striking perfectly every beat. Jezebelle had made friends with what was left of the "neko" experiments and immediately (maybe as a reflex) warmed up to the biggest male cat they had, a tiger some whacko still living in the days of _Winnie the Pooh _named Tigger. Now she was confused, however, what was this large glass cage?_

_Why did it have normal-looking rooms around it? Why where those people dressed in lab coats not letting her out? Couldn't they see she was just like them, still very much aware of her own humanity, still human on the inside? The cage had been decorated with lush, green plants and moist, dark dirt; smells abound from the fake fruit sprayed with scents. It almost looked like a jungle…or it _was _a jungle replica more correctly, the temperature was warm and slightly sticky, like it should be._

_After pawing at the glass for so long she quit, knowing no one would open the door. Instead she took to reading the backwards, large white words running across the width of the glass pane before her. "Mis…Miss-ell-us? Misellus Corporation. Property of Misellus Corporation." what a weird name for a company, and certainly a tongue twister! Jezebelle laid down drowsily in the moist dirt, stretching her naked, pale body out and sighing. Maybe they just wanted to make sure she could move after the past months of surgery and they'd leave her alone today._

_To her surprise Tigger entered the room from a door she hadn't seen in the far right side of the room, near the upper right corner. She rolled quickly to all-fours, the position she'd been trained to take in her new cat body, and mewed to him curiously. The smell of raw testosterone hit her and jangled her nerves; she began backing up into the fake brush of the jungle environment. Now she understood. They weren't waiting to see how she felt. They were waiting to see how well she mated._

"_Tigger, no! Tigger, listen to me! They have you hopped up, you're not yourself." hoping to stop his advancing she mewed to him in her cat voice when human language failed to work. Cat speech didn't work either. He was a powerful, thick, animal and she cried and screamed every second of it. His warm breath, parted lips, and sharp teeth made her feel even more uncomfortable than she already was – Jezebelle felt centimeters from death. The size of her mate was something else contributing to the fear of dying; she felt like she'd be crushed before he was even close to being done._

I'll remember that name, Misellus Corp, _she swore as she looked to the line of humans not bothering to help her, save her, while they took notes, a head of blonde hair brighter than the other ordinary colors of the humans' hair. Jezebelle was in so much pain…even for a changed body a still human-apparent body was never made for the girth of a tiger's member. The tears continued to roll down her cheeks. _I'll never trust another human as long as I live! _she screamed in her head, unable to keep the cries of pain at bay anymore, though they weren't heard over the deafening, satisfied cry of the male that ejaculated inside of her._

"Misellus Corp. Property of Misellus Corp. But I'm not…I'm not property. I'm human. I'm human. I'm human just like you but you won't look at me because you're doodling on your stupid clipboards. I'm human I'm not supposed to be in here. I'm hu—"

"Jezebelle?" she jumped nearly a foot high when Donnie even took a step towards her, like she'd forgotten she came with them. Her eyes were wide and glossy.

"I'm human." repeated the ex-experiment while pressing her ears low to her head and backing up. "I'm human." Don took another step forward, not trying to scare her, but trying to warn her that she was steadily stepping away and _off _the building.

"I think she thinks you're one of the handlers, Donnie," Maeleyn attempted to interpret. It was startling, really, to see her mood change that fast. She felt bad for her friend, and wondered just what it was she was seeing that would have her afraid of _Donatello_, the pacifist turtle. One second she was happy and rejoicing over her son, nibbling on him affectionately like a cat and caressing him like a human, and now she was this huddling, stuttering mess steadily backing herself up to what could be death if she fell wrong. Jezebelle had pushed her body so low to the point where her chin was scraping the bare ground and she couldn't even tell, caught up in that nightmare world of hers.

Leo didn't think, he just grabbed. The second he saw here back leg slip off the edge of the building, and the fraction of breaking away from the nightmare in her eyes he grabbed her. He knew she wouldn't try to maim him, or think him evil. She, herself, was probably trying to figure out why she was seconds from tumbling backwards off a building to possible death. Leonardo gave a small cry of anguish as Orion sank his teeth deep as they could go into his wrist; at nearly the same time Jezebelle wrapped her left hand, the free hand, strongly around his right arm, digging her nails into it.

He hauled her up, arm afire with pain. Leonardo blinked back the tears and looked at her raised fur; the reflex made her lose her human shape for a second or two and made her this big puff. Did he just see lights blink? Normally that wouldn't be such a thing to focus on as signs alternated with patterns and such but this was basically the slum area; signs didn't really show up here…and yet he saw lights. One flick and two blinks…like a pair of car lights. The burning in his arm and the smell of iron convinced Leo to tear his eyes away from the undeniably dark, black spot he'd sworn he'd seen lights at.

Blood dripped on the ground from the wound Orion caused, and Leo felt his arm twitch in slight spurts of pain. "We're done patrolling for the night. Let's get home." for once Raph didn't bother him, and he could tell his little brother was eyeing the blood on his hand. Leo felt unsettled. He knew those lights he saw were real, and they didn't look as random as one would suspect…at least…not to him. Something was going on.

* * *

"Hey…boss? You there?" the arm hung slightly out the old truck's front driver window, adjusting itself comfortably on the windowless opening. The male glanced curiously at his dyed-green hair and swallowed before re-gripping the cell phone in his gloved hand. Just like the boss thought, that cat met up with those freaky frogs. After the remaining Purple Dragons had swapped stories with their new leader, their old one gone, he had a hunch that this allegedly escaped "pussy" was out and about with the local heroes.

"_What Johnny? What do you want?" _the voice stressed in the usual monotone it held. _"This better be good, I'm with my co-owner." _the Purple Dragon still wasn't quite sure what or who his clan leader's "co-owner" was. He knew it was a business term and the boss used it instead of "coworker" but that was about it. Sometimes gifts were given to the name signed by "co-owner" but they often thought little of it; a gift was a gift, and the same went for him putting extra thought into it.

"I think I just saw her…that missing experiment chick? You know, the one you call 'pussy'?"

"_Oh really now? Hey, he found her. You were right, she hasn't left Manhattan."_ said the boss to his co-owner, away from the mouthpiece of the phone.

"A-and I've given the signal to Devin. They're getting away, leaving somewhere, I don't know where."

"_You did well; we'll mark it on the map. She's liable to return there. Go home."_

"Thank you sir." Johnny cut the line and blew out a sigh, playing his fingers along the steering wheel. He hadn't seen "Shadow" but a couple of times, and that was usually only for direct orders, or to tell him he was doing a stakeout…again. Now he could say he'd gotten a phone call from the infamous Shadow, and that he sounded just as scary over the phone as he did in person.

* * *

He flipped the phone shut. "That was Johnny," Shadow told the woman beside him with a smile. She gave a sultry, low hum of amusement and kissed his lips crookedly. "He said he's found her." flicking blonde hair off his bare shoulder he looked at her body wrapped in the blood red satin of his bed. She looked delectable, sinful, and could easily be Miranda's twin if not for the metal hand she cared not to cover up.

Shadow was beginning to think her striking similarity to Miranda is what got him into this. Thinking with his dick and not his brain. She was a siren glistening with the waters of vengeance, and the more she told him of these terrapins, and what they'd done to her lover, her work, the more he hated them, too. He found only more of a reason to hate them when it was confirmed Jezebelle was alive, had eluded his Miranda-fake, and could give at least him a death sentence if she ever ran into anyone that mattered in court. Those turtles stood between him—them—and "happily ever after", so they had to be eliminated.

"Where are you going?" unashamed of her exposed bosom which caught his eye as she flexed and half-rolled in the sheets to watch him dig through a closet installed in the room to get dressed. He smiled at her.

"I have a plane to catch. Going to Rhode Island."

"I see." the blonde pulled the covers up to her chest. "Is she going to cooperate?"

"If she doesn't want child services to take her kid away she will," said Shadow matter-of-factly. What Miranda had done could remove more than just her child. It could kill her marriage, or even put her in prison. He found that leverage enough for her to obey. The blonde smiled cattily at her co-owner. How clever he was.

"Let me know how it goes!" she called after him as he fixed his tie, heading down the hall to the front door of her house. It was coming along nicely.


	5. Chapter 5

Nirvana

**AN: The second chapter, as I promised. Since I didn't fully update the "newer AN" in the last chapter here's the rest of it. Thanks to **Scribe of Turesa**, **Eskimo-Otter**, and **Jet **for giving this story its current reviews.**

"I'm sorry," Jezebelle whispered, watching Leo wrap his right hand down a few inches past the wrist. He'd put small Band-Aids and Neosporin on the claw marks she'd left behind. "I really am." his brown eyes were so transfixed on the lining up and wrapping of the bandage over the area of the wrist that she didn't think he'd look at her. Cautiously Jezebelle nodded her head into Leo's bandaged arm, waiting for a response. It always made her feel uneasy when someone didn't answer her right away, and this wasn't helping.

Knowing she caused those marks, albeit inadvertently, she wanted a sign to know he was okay. It would ease her guilt. "Leo?" Jezebelle tried weakly, the bandage making a sharp ripping sound as he tore it with his teeth. She flinched at the noise. "Are you mad at me? I…it was an accident. I didn't mean to." at last he sighed and her heart dipped down back into her chest instead of clogging up her throat.

"I'm fine." that very well could be a lie, she knew. Jezebelle had watched them all, despite how short of a stay she'd had, and knew he could be very stoic when need be. It was like a safety mechanism for him; he trained to protect his family, and lost his emotions to be a war general for his brothers. He was their eldest, the leader-in-training, and handled this situation like it was nothing—just a scratch—because if he panicked the little brothers might squirm with discomfort. The hardness of his face came from more than just age; he looked like he had literally trained himself into a warrior status and maintained the physique she saw now for the mental security of his own self and the safety of his little brothers.

He may only be twenty, may be a turtle, but he was a man. She briefly wondered what things he'd seen, what things he'd done, being the eldest and a mutant; being the biggest walking secret ever. "Well if it'll ease your face how 'bout a 'thank you' instead?" for the first time since they'd returned home his expression wasn't focused so much on thought, and wasn't so dark and hard. It was curious, light, even a touch amused. "You looked like you were going to bite me when I tried to apologize," Jezebelle explained, "so I figured I'd try a different route." his eye ridges were still high, indicating he was unsure.

"Thank you." Leo's head shot up cautiously. Sure April had hugged him but this hug was different. Back then, with April, he was a teen that didn't care about hormones—he had a friend, someone other than family!—but now he was…he was different. Grown. And the person hugging him wasn't a human; the person hugging him was a mutant woman that had been through things he couldn't even begin to imagine, but a mutant woman nonetheless.

Giving birth, for one, was something Leo was _glad _he'd never be able to experience, but she had already done it. Whether it was willingly or unwillingly he wouldn't know…not until she was ready to talk about it, anyways. She'd been completely changed from human to cat, and he found it amazing she didn't die in the process! Her body was warm and he eased his neck down into a natural position, feeling the buzz of her purr tickle his plastron. It was a comforting feeling, almost like holding Klunk to his chest; seemed like cats and their purrs could melt problems away, or at least temporarily cause them to disappear.

"You saved my life, and I'm thankful. I have a new start now…I've had one since you rescued me. I can't let this flashback crap scare me into not living. I'm _alive_, Leo, I'm _alive_!" she smiled. Leo gave her a soft smile, and put his bitten, scratched hand to her shoulder affectionately.

"It's not in me not to help anyone that needs it." Leonardo explained, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. She smiled.

"Well, thank you." Jezebelle kissed his cheek. Her heart thundered as she did so. It'd been so long since she was on the outside…with people who would be nice to her and protect her. Was that too fast? Was she somehow warped and sick with her affection, too giving? She didn't think so, but in the back of her mind something came out of the haze…a book, it looked like a book…maybe she'd read something about traumatic people that attach fast or something.

Regardless of what caused the fear in her she thought Leo deserved the kiss. Jezebelle didn't feel that she was wrong either; she had to be out of her teens by now, she knew that much, so she shouldn't feel so bashful. She was an adult…or probably was…really close to it anyways. Gently padding out of the room Leo just stared, the thoughts he dared not say to her circulating in his head again as she laid down near her child. Her child, Orion, was sleeping peacefully after a small sedation from Donnie; none of them knew why but the little cub went absolutely _berserk _at Maeleyn and Mikey's presence.

This mildly concerned the eldest, and Donatello, and confirmed what he was thinking. The cub didn't have such feral reactions for him, Splinter, Donatello, or Raphael. Just those two…almost like he was targeting them. Jezebelle was cuddled up next to her cub after changing her position, the two sleeping side-by-side on the couch. Her child was tucked into her breasts, paws extended out, lying flat on his stomach.

Something was wrong, that was obvious. A child missing and separate from her roughly two days doesn't just "get away", to Leonardo it smelled like a somewhat-effective baiting. It felt like a trap. After all, if she had been thrown in the river why wasn't he? And how did Orion mysteriously end up in the line of their roof jumping?

None of the events that had suddenly turned the hysterical mother's emotions and life on her head added up logically. They did add up to something bad though, and Leo knew it all too well. If it seemed unusual, it was a trap, if it was too convenient, it was a trap, and if it finally gave you the sense of vanquished evil or final peace, it was a trap. But how could he tell her? The mutant mother's face was tucked just so, barely resting at the side of the little one's face, and it had a soft, big smile on it.

He hadn't seen her smile like that since she'd gotten here, and was pretty sure she hadn't smiled like that for at least a year. It was nearing one in the morning and the eldest decided to hang up his katanas and get to bed. Practice would start in roughly five hours. "Bed, Donnie," Mikey was already rubbing his eyes and turning off the main TV; a small, welcome hush fell over the underground home in nearly an instant since the TV had been turned off. Don's turn; the genius pouted but Leo crossed his arms over his plastron, leaning crookedly on his little brother's doorframe to watch various menus pop up as the genius saved his work and powered down his beloved machine.

Maeleyn had already convinced—to politely put it, Leo never liked to remember she practiced blatant, playful seduction on his little brother—Raph to go to bed, knowing Leo would come after him, too, if not willing to turn in for what was technically the new morning. The leader made one last stop, checking the two sleeping mutants on the couch. His stomach wiggled oddly at the sight of the unmoving cub; Leo couldn't even see an indication of breathing from the cub but maybe the fur obscured the general raising and lowering of the body. That or Jezebelle did, the mother still wrapped tightly around her escaped child. He flushed lightly at the sight of her; the cub made the curvature of what breast amount she had in that form very apparent due to how he laid, and just how close Jezebelle snuggled him. Leo felt almost guilty for looking.

Almost. He was twenty years old, why should breasts bother him? Leo was beginning to damn his mind for picking out positive, attractive qualities about the guest—such as her mutant status, the fact that she was a woman (a mature woman), her amusing purrs and cat mannerisms—because women shouldn't be the forefront of his mind. Sure it happens because he's a guy but his mind should really be focusing on trying to predict what these hiding enemies were planning. There was little doubt in him releasing the missing Orion was an enemy ploy to distract her, or coax her out in the open where the job could be finished.

If she died he'd failed, and his word would go unfulfilled as he did not protect her to the best of his ability. Leonardo had been the eldest for too long, the protector, to let someone—her, an untrained, vulnerable female—walk blindly into a trap. The blanket whispered as he unfurled it and gently placed it over the two; Orion didn't move, but Jezebelle readjusted herself into the back of the couch. Her yellow eyes blinked once, sleepily, and stared up at him. "Goodnight Leo," Jezebelle yawned, snuggling her head into the spot between the arm and the back of the couch, tucking her right hand around Orion.

"Goodnight Jezebelle." the cub failed to stir, even at his voice. This disturbed him, too, because no such 'hard sleep' sounds came from him. He was actually silent, deadly silent. Everyone made sleeping sounds, Leo knew, even Splinter! He started towards his room, gently pushing the door open to hang his katanas on the hooks adorning his wall; these hooks were a mere two inches from the ink painting Splinter had made him to note passing from the genin rank to the chunin level.

Leo sighed, relaxing into his sheets. His brain couldn't seem to shut off. Why hadn't Orion moved or tried to bite him, even looked at him when he put the blanket over him? There should've been _some _reaction. He thought hard over this until three in the morning when his sleep-starved body simply gave up so he could rest.

* * *

Leonardo, for the first time in a long time, was late for breakfast. Donatello was up sipping his first pot of coffee, looking at his eldest brother's empty seat. For the moment it was only him that appeared to be up; Raphael was still snuggled up to Maeleyn, Mikey was snoring with the door open, and Jezebelle and Orion were stretched out on the couch. Despite his technological achievements Don felt accomplished being able to say he was up first this morning. He grinned lightly, sipping his coffee with more satisfaction.

About ten minutes later Leonardo stumbled in. Donatello could tell by the darker discoloration under his eyes that he hadn't slept well and the genius had an inkling as to why. Now it was just the two of them—Donatello made sure to check that Jezebelle and the cub were still sleeping—so maybe he could swap suspicions with the strategist, the watcher. "I noticed something weird yesterday," started Don nonchalantly, sliding his half-empty coffee cup across the kitchen table. Leonardo yawned and attempted to straighten up, to look awake, leaning forward on his elbows to listen.

"Enlighten me." Leo mumbled in his sleep-deep voice.

"When I sedated Orion yesterday to save Maeleyn and Mikey some tip-toeing the needle didn't go all the way in. I lowered the plunger for show." his elder brother immediately straightened and opened his brown eyes wide despite their puffy, almost bloodshot-looking nature.

"What?" was he serious? But what would cause the needle to be unable to penetrate? "Are tiger skins not as easy to penetrate?" Leo asked curiously. On the logical side, the one he wanted to stay on, the combination of skin and fur could impede the needle from entering.

"If he was bigger, maybe, and if I had picked a different spot, maybe, but injections aren't impossible. I'm telling you something stopped me. Something _hard_." Don explained. Leo felt his heart drop. What he had been thinking was right! Something _was _wrong with Orion. "And if my thinking is correct we could be in trouble…big trouble, Leo."

"So what am I supposed to tell her Don? I don't think 'we suspect your son to be something other than normal and feel that the family is at risk, can you leave?' is a good thing for her to hear!"

"Talk to Splinter about it if you must but I'm telling you, if I'm correct you're going to have to make a choice real fast about family or…or her." Leonardo knew he wasn't going to call her 'animal' or 'mutant' that would be too ignorant for him (especially with him being a mutant) but he looked like he was going to say something else. That's why he substituted 'her' instead. What Don had said alarmed him though; usually Donnie was never such an extremist. This could only mean, Leo thought, Don had found something bad. Something that could harm the family.

"Hey," Mikey yawned, walking into the kitchen, "where's mama kitty and the terrible tiger?" Leo felt himself begin to panic, like an instinct. _She shouldn't be out_, his brain screamed, _something's happening! Something's wrong with her child! _and what had she done? Isolated herself with that child, or just moved into a different room because something had woken her up. Leo prayed it was the latter. _True turtle luck! _he thought as a growl escaped him, Don just gets done confirming his suspicions and she goes off.

He stopped short of the dojo as Mikey and Donnie checked the other rooms. It was his fault, wasn't it? "Stupid!" though he wanted to hit himself but he slammed his fists sideways into the dojo wall just before the door. Splinter slid the door open, sensing some sort of discomfort; around the same time he questioned Leonardo Michelangelo jumped down from the second floor, the clothes Jezebelle had worn draped over his arm.

"Bad news bro," Mikey warned. "She's not in the second story and definitely not on the ground floor and wherever she went she didn't take her clothes." he offered out his arm as proof. Leonardo's warm brown eyes hardened as they swept over the purple hat, white robe, and gloves. Didn't she know it was freezing out there, that she had to stay alive to protect her child? Then again…maybe she just needed to stay alive for her; Don was suspecting the son to be something abnormal like he was.

Maeleyn came out seconds later. "Mikey said he's looking for Jezebelle. What's wrong, where is she? What did you do?" her questions ran together and Leo was only able to distinguish that she was blaming him, poking into his plastron with her finger impatiently. He couldn't believe her, the audacity!

"_Me_?" cried Leo incredulously, "what did I do?" if anything he was the one that looked out for her! Maeleyn was back their playing nympho to his brother!

"You try to keep everyone in line, and to your morals! You fight with Raph; you nag Mikey for being too silly, and dictate Don's computer hours! Who's to say you didn't just nay-say her out of the lair?"

"I do those things because they're my brothers and despite conflicts I look out for them! You'd know that if you got your face off Raph's—"

"_Leonardo!_" Splinter walked into the living room and for a moment the two were hushed, "go in the dojo and we will talk." normally he would fear the tone and emphasis he'd just invoked from his father but not now. He was on high alert, but why? Maybe this is what Raph felt like last year when they fought the Shredder in his stronghold, sliding through the door to save everything that mattered to him—his mate. But it couldn't be the same thing because he didn't love her…well; he hadn't known her enough to love her. "I'm going," he promised his father after the look lovingly steeled.

"Guys get on the TV, on the computer, do something. She needs to be found."

"Rodger!" Mikey saluted, flopping onto the nearest couch cushion and reaching for the remote. "Gross," he turned the remote over. "Hey dudes, we got blood. One of 'em was bleeding."

"Oh great…" Leo growled.

"Come," Splinter persuaded, "we will talk while your brothers use other means of searching."

"Yes, sensei."

* * *

She carefully ascended the rooftops, noting the weather was significantly warmer than last night, even if a small chilly breeze persisted. Jezebelle winced, finally standing on her two back feet like a human—her swollen right wrist couldn't take the walking pressure anymore! The oozing blood had ebbed to a few droplets that beaded up past the wound when she wouldn't pay attention, and she absently licked the puncture wound as she scanned the rooftop. If memory served her right she'd seen a small shack-like structure that could hold the two of them for the time being. Four roofs over she found the shack she was looking for; it was much bigger than the cage back in Misellus Corp by far, but smaller than what humans would want to live in by far.

"C'mon honey. Mommy found a place to rest." the shack had an old-fashioned lock, she analyzed it; it could probably be picked with her claws. Jezebelle let the claw on the first finger push past her fur and stuck it experimentally into the round center of the lock. A few minutes of jiggling and listening to the metallic scrape on the inside and she was in. The shack smelled of must, clothes, and faintly of flowers; boxes marked 'Stevenson' were pushed up near the top right corner nearest the door, and about four were there, a horribly neon green rug with a tape label of 'Anderson' lie in the dead center of the three foot by six foot shack. It seemed like this shack was full of things people didn't want or had left behind, and someone had put them in here in case they wanted their items back.

Jezebelle thanked whoever was up there watching over her. She could use these things. Immediately she began to fish through the four boxes that belonged to these alleged 'Stevenson' people and found clothes to spread out on the concrete floor to trap warmth; it would take the hard bite of chill away some. Orion began to knead the bright rug, purring as he half-rolled into the socks and stretched out shirts Jezebelle had aligned to hide the concrete floor. For the moment he was pacified; Jezebelle took to rooting through the four boxes (two of which were clothes, one was a bed set, and the other had unclaimed, small furniture and accessories like disassembled lamps or silverware) to find clothes for the two of them to wear.

Idiotically she had left what clothes Michelangelo had given her, and now she was starting to regret it. Those clothes were more than just fabric; they were a kind act, they were someone—for the first time in nearly two years—that cared. And they smelled like their house; a place that was warm and safe, out of human reach. Clothes too large to fit them were used to blanket the floor, so rooting through the boxes wasn't too hard; Jezebelle ended up finding an off-the-shoulder gray top with black lace trim and a bit of extra lace wrapping around the short sleeves. It was a nice fit, and she'd found long-legged black pants with a belt to keep her warm.

A small polo could fit Orion, and she draped it over the box to keep from losing it. Jezebelle curled up next to her son, who was flapping a sock between his hands and nibbling on the toe part. She was starting to miss the feeling of having other people—males, harmless friends—around. It felt just like being in the cage again. Cold, alone with her child, trapped by smells that made her sick. And what would she do for food? she hadn't even thought about that…

Maybe her leave was premature but when she heard them talking about her son she had to leave! The way they spoke it sounded like they were going to do something to him, and she wasn't about to let people manhandle her son, not twice. Not when she could physically do something about it this time! "I love you baby," Jezebelle nibbled his flicking ear and he gave a musical 'mreep' at the touch, rolling over to stare at her with perfectly golden eyes. "And I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

He drifted to sleep two hours later, and Jezebelle used her teeth to rip off the cuff of a pair of pants to use as a bandage on her swollen wrist. _I must've startled him when I woke him up so suddenly…I didn't want to give Leo and his brother a chance to convince me to stay, not the way they were talking_, she thought as she cleaned her wound one last time before fixing the bandage to her wrist. How long could she stay here?, Jezebelle wondered. Weren't Leo and the others professional ninjas, didn't that mean they could track her? Would they make her return, even if she didn't want to?

She busied herself with quietly tailoring and making a tail hole in the jeans, pondering where the best place was to get food. They'd passed a couple of shops last night but she didn't have any money! "What am I gonna do?" damn. Seemed like she was back in a corner, again! Wait a minute…Jezebelle dug through the fourth box that belonged to 'Stevenson' and began to put the lamps together, poking through whatever else might be in there.

The lamps were in decent condition, and with a bit of polishing up the silverware could be sold as a nice set. She could probably pawn this stuff, and get a little bit of eating money out of it! Maybe the cloud hanging over her wasn't as dark as she thought.

* * *

"Hey yo, Johnny, it's Devin. Got somethin' over here bro!" when Johnny wasn't obeying Shadow's every demand he was on the street craftily pick-pocketing to keep income circulating in the Purple Dragon's gang. Shadow was pretty stingy, and the "co-owner" wasn't always sending gifts. Not to them, but always to Shadow. He was away right now so Johnny was commanded and required to oversee all procedures and report them to Shadow. The radar screen on the computer continued to beep and Devin kept a keen eye on it, as he was the lead in the technology faction in the group.

For some reason two beeping dots were on screen, not one like planned. Something must've triggered Orion to disobey, or to go against the programming. At the moment, as Devin closed down the radar window, he was in stasis mode, feigning sleep. Temperature was a normal one hundred degrees and occipital output was turned off, his eyes closed for "sleep". _The emotions could've overridden the programming but they would have to be extremely strong! _Devin rubbed his chin curiously, it seemed plausible. Who had the other chip though?

"Better call the boss," he considered. Johnny didn't need to be here to see one extra dot. Devin dialed the boss, wondering why one dot wasn't moving and one was. The two dots were almost on completely opposite sides of the grid, so what had Orion bitten that would go to the heart of Manhattan while the stationary one was on the west side? A small bout of panic overcame Devin; what if Orion had bitten a human?

What if that human, then, decided to go to the doctor and inquire what that terrible bite mark might be, and why it was swollen? Could these chips be tracked? Despite being a decent technology handler Shadow didn't totally inform him of what they were dealing with, and he was worried that his neck could be on the line. Or that Shadow would off him for being panicky because the panicky ones crack to the pigs. There was only so much he could do with what tech they had; just because they stole it doesn't mean it was in good condition – whatever they stole was usually damaged in the act, if not by human than by those weird city protectors that no newspaper seemed to catch.

He was beginning to think Shadow didn't let them steal the good stuff because then they'd be able to track him and figure out why he wanted this cat back so bad. What could this guy be hiding? "Hey boss, sorry to interrupt but the chips have been placed. Unfortunately there's some sort of malfunction…it's either with the cub or the computer. It's showing two dots."

"_Thanks for the update Devin, I'll get back to you with my opinion. I'm visiting a friend. I should be back by noon, if not late evening. Keep an eye on it for me."_

"Yes sir." both dots were moving now. The one in the center of the screen was making its way towards the northern side of the center area. What could be down there? Devin wondered. He thought of what teens and tweens thought of as the "Stock-up Strip" a line of restaurants (both drive-through and sit down) and convenience stores.

Pulling up the second, closer radar screen that had a few white-named popular points he figured out where the carrier of the second chip was going. McDonalds.

* * *

Miranda had timed it so that Shadow—as he liked to be called—visited while Heinz took Jezebelle out to her gymnastics competition. Every text message made her want to pack a small bag and run, to not see him again. His last was _I'm passing the old Spector house_, and she knew this was it, almost like judgment day…except the judge was more like an executioner. She knew, due to his style, and personality, whatever favor he asked wasn't going to be pretty. Part of her was hoping he'd park at the house he'd bought and walk to her house…if he walked slow enough Heinz could come home and demand he leave, or call the cops.

But that wouldn't happen, she knew, because it would be too perfect. A sleek, black Honda pulled up in her driveway moments after she wished she'd called the cops, or asked Heinz to stay home instead. She saw his dark, perfectly combed brown hair emerge first, then his long, pale face that lead down to average-sized shoulders donning a black suit. That's why he was called Shadow—despite his "methods" of making things disappear—he was infatuated with black. "Miranda, Miranda…it's nice to see you again." it took all she had to willingly let the creep into her house, to let him step inside and sully the very purity of her house.

"You look good, as always." he brushed a blonde lock fondly out of her face, smile growing the more he thought of how that blonde hair used to splay so nicely, so messily across his bed. Or her bed, whenever they wanted a quickie.

"You said you had news?" Miranda swallowed to beat down the sensation of vomiting in her. He shouldn't be touching her…she was different now. Wiser, unfeeling for his devil smile and sweet promises.

"Yes," Shadow smiled, showing off the twinkle in his beautiful brown eyes that looked like half-melted chocolate topped with honey. "What if I told you that I found her?" he clapped his hands together softly, interlacing his fingers and sounding quite salesman-like, "what if I told you that you never actually messed up? That you could see her again, and that she's alive and well?" her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Could it be true? It might be; she could tell when Shadow was lying and at the moment he wasn't. A long-lost daughter—even if she married into having her—was excellent leverage, hardly anything else down here would've been worth a trip for him.

Shadow operated in such a way that only the top priority could convince him to take a plane. Little else could cause him to smile so. "That…" Miranda felt somewhat dizzy, grabbing blindly for the small table in the foyer to hold herself up. "That's amazing! Where is she? Can I see her?"

"If you help me out, yes, you'll get to see her all you want."

"What do I have to do?"

"I want you to write a letter. Address it to Manhattan, New York, to April Jones of the Second Time Around antique shop. It can reach her there."

"You came all the way here only to get me to write a letter?"

"No, that would be stupid!" Shadow gave a small laugh and wiped a finger across his nose as a habit. "I want you to come with me. She'll want to see her mother."

"But what about Heinz and Jezebelle?"

"I'll have an associate explain to them you went to New York for an important business matter. If they want to come, they can." Shadow waited for a response. His pretty, radiant Miranda looked speechless, and near giddy with excitement. "However I would like the letter to precede you so wait until I call you to send it."

"Is she alright? Why do I have to wait?"

"Where she was living kind of jangled her nervous. She's still pretty messed up. Had a fight with some friends she was rooming with or something." Shadow lied out of his ass but a text from Devin had confirmed she had moved since early this morning. Who knew why she left? "And, you know," he added in false sympathy, "she hasn't seen you in so long…don't you think it would be a little odd if you just sent it to her out of the blue?"

"Isn't it out of the blue as it is? I mean…I haven't seen her in two years!"

"Yes but with her moving around she might look over it, or see it as a trick by one of her roommates. Wouldn't put much stock in it, would she?"

"No," Miranda rubbed her arm softly. She wouldn't, would she? What kind of person was she now? Miranda wondered. Could Jezebelle finally see her as her mother now, or would she still be thinking of Jetta that had been dead for four years? "No she wouldn't."

"Exactly. So…I'll mail you an outfit and let you know when I'll be getting your tickets, okay?"

"Mailing me an outfit?" Miranda repeated confusedly. "Why can't I wear what I have?"

"It's easier than bringing a bulky suitcase with you. That and I _always _give you nice gifts, don't I? It'll be something she likes, I promise." he'd like it too. To appease her crooked frown Shadow gave his brilliant white smile, one that had one her over nearly four years ago. Miranda's shoulders slumped, a sign of caving in.

"Alright."

"Good, until then." Shadow pressed a picture into her hand and kissed her cheek before breezing away back to her car. Only after he left the driveway did Miranda turn over her palm and look at the picture. _Her tattoo_, in Shadow's handwriting, and she looked, transfixed, at the pale back with the bold **005 **four inches below her right shoulder. Why did she have a number? Sure Jezebelle was good with them but she wouldn't want to get a _tattoo_ of one!

Miranda had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Able to text his co-owner on his phone despite being on a plane Shadow sent the text message, waiting for a reply from what was basically his fling. Women weren't the only ones who could be manipulative with sex. A small buzz tickled his hand and he opened the message; he could see what he'd sent and the co-owner's reply.

_I think it's time we let Tigger out._

_Of course. But I feel playful; let's not let him get her right away._

That would be fun, wouldn't it? If the cat was in danger those turtle things his co-owner talked about might come out, then they could nail two birds with one stone. Shadow grinned, texting back the 'okay' as he looked up briefly to the darkening sky, clouds full of snow. How long could Jezebelle last anyways, if she had allegedly left the terrapins? She'd need food, and a place to stay out of the chilly nights.

He received a new text, one from Devin. Curiously, Shadow opened it. The twenty-four year old couldn't help but laugh.

_Hey boss, Mic just texted me on his break. Says a woman wearing black gloves, a black coat, gray top, and black pants walked in to get a couple of things off the dollar menu. Paid with cash and had bright auburn hair. Remembered her because she had yellow eyes; she told him it was because of contacts. Sound like your girl?_

_Yes_, he texted back, _she was always quick to think on her feet, and a bit of a smartass. Mark it on the map; we'll see if she comes back._

_Yes sir_, he shut his phone off to enjoy the ride. Seems like this would be over even before it could begin, and he'd stay a free man.

* * *

"It seems to me, my son, that your anger is directed at yourself, why is that?" for the longest time Leo said nothing, and merely gripped his kneepads with his hands, thinking. He was wondering if she was cold, and if the blood on the remote was hers (which Donnie was testing). Leonardo knew she had no food because Mikey had done inventory to see if she took any kind of provisions with her, and she didn't. So what would she eat? he worried, was she going to let herself starve? She shouldn't, not if she was looking out for her child.

Her wound also worried him. Would it get infected? "I…" Leo knew why, but couldn't manage to say it. Feeling that failure, that disappointment was one thing but verbalizing it was even worse because he was exposing himself. Showing his imperfection, which he knew he possessed despite his brothers thinking that.

If he showed imperfection he showed possibility to slack and lose one of his brothers on the battlefield. Didn't they realize he perfected himself for them, to protect them because he loved them? Obviously there were areas he could stand to perfect, like ones outside of ninja training that could serve him well. Like talking, expressing his worries and emotions correctly – usually they slipped out in an argument with Raph or he just clammed up like his little brother and kept them all to himself. He was beginning to think if he had simply _talked _to her, sat her down and discussed his suspicions with Donatello that she wouldn't have run off.

Leonardo felt rather stupid. If he wouldn't talk about his brothers like he did with Don about her child why would he do it to her? He was raised in a family that had been taught equality and that's not what he had shown her. The eldest felt undeniably miserable with guilt. "I failed you. I failed me…I failed _her_." he dug his fingers into the material of his kneepads. Splinter smiled warmly at him despite his clear distress.

"And do you think you failed when you rescued her? Did you fail when she found a good rest at last? Or did you fail most when she smiled after finding her son on an outing with the four of you?" Splinter really had a way to turn his son's dismal, self-pressuring thinking around. His eldest child was often so serious that he needed to be reminded of what good things he'd accomplished to bring him back to the fact that he can be happy, that they can be a fun family when no immediate danger lurked.

"No…I mean…yes, kind of. I yelled at Donnie for making her undergo testing to help her memories come back but I was just as guilty. I carried her through the door because she wouldn't go. I'm going back on exactly what I'm attempting to convey and protect! Who does that?"

"You did so with good intentions, my son. And you worried for her with good intentions, like a friend. A friend would be upset now, that she is missing, and even angry, like you. This is why we are talking." could she really be a friend already? So soon? On what grounds did he have to consider her friend, or even the other way around?

"Like Raphael, my son, you have this need to protect, and to see those you pick to protect safe in all matters. Could it be that you are so angry because she, herself, still feels unprotected, that she needed to run?" that…that made sense, Leo thought. Donatello had always joked he had zoological altruism. He wasn't too sure what that was but apparently it had to do with a sense of saving people and helping.

"Yes," he nodded numbly. "Yes…"

"And it appears to me that you are no longer angry."

"I'm not," Leo admitted, a little embarrassed. He could only hope to one day be as wise as his father. His father chuckled.

"Knock knock, hate to interrupt but I have news!" they saw Don's shadow past the close door and watched him shoulder it open.

"What is it, my son?"

"Surfed the local food places and camera caught her at McDonalds around noon." that was good, there was hope! Now they could narrow their search to the west side, as Mikey in all his observatory, distracted knowledge placed that particular McDonalds to be on the "Stock-up Strip" only the west side had. The wait was painful but Leo was going to cover some of the bases.

"Hey, April? Hi, it's Leo. Can you call if you see anything weird?"

"_Leo? Hey, what's wrong? Are you looking for something in particular? Any sort of mutant business I should know?"_

"No," Leo lied. If April knew about Jezebelle and found her first (and if Orion was still with her) there could be a chance of injury. Or she could scare Jezebelle away accidentally. "Just let me know if you see anyone dressed too warmly, or a big, odd-colored cat." he explained.

"_I'm not sure what you're up to but I'll keep my eye out…I guess."_

"Thanks April, I appreciate it. Bye."

"_Bye Leo."_

"Hey guys," Mikey's nervous tone coaxed Leo from the kitchen, and Don from his work station. Turning up the volume on the TV he let the news reporter explain what he'd just seen, or thought he saw, anyways.

"_I'm Chad Fontaine from Channel Five here to follow up on disturbing news reports of a large, vicious tiger running rampant in Manhattan! As you can see here the power behind this escaped creature surpasses that of a normal tiger, what was once an upright lamppost, a nighttime aid, is now little else but broken glass and thin pieces of metal. And over here we have evidence that the creature may be jumping buildings. Lock your doors, folks, and stay inside! More as this story develops…" _the cameraman zoomed in on a rooftop ledge that had been forcibly broken by something large, and the deep claw marks around the broken area.

Now Leo could really curse himself. No one needed to say it, but Mikey did, of course because that was his way of realizing things. Letting it sink in. "And let me guess," he pointed vaguely to the TV, "that's Jezebelle's baby daddy?" Maeleyn and Raph looked at each other and back to the TV.

"Son of a bitch," they both groaned. _My thoughts exactly, _Leo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We have to find her before he does," Maeleyn insisted, trying to think where Jezebelle might go as a reflex despite this being Manhattan instead of Rhode Island.

"It'll be somewhere she can keep a kid, and possibly have to wiggle through. Cats can usually fit anywhere their heads can safely go in and out of; the rest of their body condenses to fit the space."

"Like that's going to help anything," Raph grumble. Maeleyn jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

"We'll do what we always do," Leo assured him, though he felt the same irritated hopelessness about not knowing where to start. "Block by block, roof by roof."

"While avoiding a large possibly turtle-eating tiger that's also looking for her and his kid." Mikey added, smiling widely despite the circumstances.

"Since we still have a couple of hours before we go on patrol let me whip something up to give us a chance at protection."

"Are you going to make us vehicles?" Mikey inquired excitedly, literally jumping towards his older brother. Donnie gave him an 'are you kidding?' look of incredulity.

"We could…you know, get some high-tech weapons." Raph tried. Maeleyn glowered at him. Any kind of modified, technological, non-sai toy _thing _made him frisky. She, for one, didn't want a frisky Raph right now. Especially if they didn't come home with Jezebelle…but then again, consoling sex might be good.

But there would be a heart of guilt in there knowing her friend was alone, possibly being assaulted by the elements and hunger. "Get to it Donnie, who knows how much time we have…" Leo waved him off. He'd offer help but usually when they tried to help Don he got irritated easily and wound up having to stay longer than the original time if he'd just worked on it by himself.

"I'll have it done before you know it."


	6. Chapter 6

Nirvana

**AN: Thanks to **Scribe of Turesa **and **Eskimo-Otter **for reviewing the past two chapters. The story is slowly picking up momentum, I think, and I like it! **Scribe of Turesa **is sort of in the ballpark with the tracker but there's more to it :).**

Twelve days passed without so much as a hint of Jezebelle. Leo was more worried now than ever. Don's test on her blood, the splatter he knew intuitively _had _to be hers, confirmed his fear three days ago. Now they were fighting time, and it made Leo uneasy. The McDonald's she'd gone to the first day shut down; the tiger sightings had scared off customers as it seemed to be closing in on the west side of Manhattan.

That tiger was one thing keeping Leo in limbo about the prolonged search; on the one hand they could search the city at night and risk running into the massive tiger, or they could wait and be _sure _he moved to a different sector. Leo's anxiety was through the roof! The things that could happen if they decided to scope alongside their furry hunting enemy…the possibility of that male tiger being wired, just like Orion, to hurt his brothers or his one sister, was holding him back. Donatello, by using the images of claw marks on the building in the first news report and small craters in various buildings as the news traced the tiger daily, was able to estimate the creature to be _at least _four hundred pounds with the jaw strength able to exert into the nine hundred pound range, if not the maximum believed strength of tigers, one thousand pounds by means of a digital schematic program. It scared Leo that the one thousand pound possibility came from a _normal _tiger (according to Donnie and TV documentaries), but this was a substantially _larger _tiger, one that could kill him and his brothers without even blinking.

One that could kill _her _with even less effort. Despite extra steel-laced padding inserted into the clothes Leo and the others had used to vanquish Bishop's mutagen mishap they could hardly be prepared for _everything _this tiger could bring. Four of the twelve nights Leo could hear the shallow, grumbling hiss of something much larger, or could feel the deep thump of something landing on the same roof and rushed his brothers away to safety – his family couldn't be risked, not while they were still pulling a plan together. The eldest highly considered bringing Leatherhead along but decided to wait and figure out if the animal had a pattern, if he'd indeed found anything. So far the tiger hadn't seemed to have caught anything; reports of shredded clothes and multiple fabric scraps came from all sides of the city, but no bodies or missing persons' reports.

It made his head spin. Michelangelo had sworn she'd be in the west side of the city, but with food shops pulling out and locking up left and right, none of them were sure anymore. Would she run somewhere else? The news followed the signs left behind by the large tiger, but little else. Leo felt hopeless; no camera had actually caught the beast, and his trail was never the same because of the clothes.

Don was maybe just as frustrated as him. His machines were going full blast, mapping software trying to make a link between all the sights in Manhattan having proof of a large, roaming tiger. A small cry of frustration escaped his little brother and Leo peeked in on him; the sight of bleach-white strings intermeshed and looking somewhat like crazy silly string caught his attention and he frowned. The markers must be so sporadic that no real trail existed. Beeping echoed from the room in a rapid four-four tempo, and Donnie jabbed a finger at the machine as if to make it stop.

Raph checked in on Don, shouldering past Leo to lean on the left side of the doorframe; he'd been calling Casey, April, Angel, anyone he could think of to warn them, tell them to get out of town. Angel, even though she swore off any ties to the Purple Dragons, was still some help. Said she had her doubts about the upper ring near the new boss Shadow; she also mentioned Hun had gone missing over a year ago but didn't know why, and thought it strange. Logically it lined up with the events that unfolded last year in Saki's tower; Hun has been knocked unconscious. Who's to say Hun hadn't gotten out, woken up and ran, or had truly been killed in the collapse?

He was a big guy, he could've survived, or so Leo thought. "You okay bro?" Raph asked the genius.

"No!" he hissed, "I'm this close to taking that thing apart!" pointing to the source of the beeping Don pinched two of his three green fingers together and glowered at it.

"What _is _that?" Leo asked. He didn't know what _half _of this stuff did but knew it saved their shells more than once when they needed it. Donatello was forever making new things, though, and Leo could never be sure of what was in his little brother's room.

"It notes the strength of foreign interference. I've checked the security cameras and the computer, and nothing's out of the ordinary."

"Maybe it's a glitch." Raph suggested. A glitch? In his work? Likely, but Don didn't think it was that simple; a glitch wouldn't have gone on for twelve straight days.

"It's _not _a glitch," insisted Donatello; peeking at the machine again. "The signal's stronger this time, and the rate is faster. I don't understand…" Leo and Raphael dared to enter his room, maybe to see if they could point out a lose wire or spill stain that could've hindered the instrument (unlikely with Donatello's meticulous nature) but their entrance caused the machine to cry louder. "It's one of you! I _knew _I wasn't crazy! Raph, you, out, I need to test something!" his first thought jumped to Leo and his once wounded arm. If his theory about Orion was right—a bit of a far shot, even for a theory—it might help them. Experimentally he poked Leo's hand and wrist on the right arm, the arm that had been attacked, and paused at a small raised knot.

It was the area where Orion had bitten him, and looked to be swollen still despite medical attention. Gliding a fingertip softly over the raised site Don stopped the finger over the bump. Whatever it was, it was hard, and caused Leo to flinch. He held the bump close to the machine and the noise intensified. "This might seem a little disturbing, Leo," Don said as he motioned for Leo to sit in his swivel chair, "but you _are _the foreign interference and I think it's this right here." his little brother pressed the bump to make a point.

Leo winced at the prodding. "We're going to have to remove it." his blood turned to ice.

"_What_?"

"Someone could be looking for this chip Leo, they could be trying to find us!" of course they could, but Don's tech was probably providing as much interference as theirs, if not more. The eldest sighed. "Feel free to call Raph so you two can have a pressure war." Don offered as helpfully as possible, scalpel glinting and reflecting light from the various machines behind him. Collecting a rag and a pair of tweezers Donatello looked apprehensively to his big brother before getting the signal; Leo wrapped his left arm around the arm of the chair and nodded. Twitching was an automatic reaction and Don would pause every few seconds after the seven centimeter incision had been made to let his brother's arm spasm before continuing to fish the chip out.

At last he had it, and the bloody chip gleamed like a thin ruby in the light of his room. Meticulous with the undoubtedly fragile piece Don patted and blotted the blood away, turning the chip over. It was roughly the size of a digital camera SD card so he could plug it in to the computer with little complication. Donatello hoped this could do a little bit more than help find Jezebelle; the night she had a flashback to Misellus Corp he's searched avidly for anything on the corporation and found nothing. This would be just as hard as trying to get the blood experiment details without constant help from Rilien one year ago, but they'd done it.

It was harder with her, though, because they had no one on the inside willing to help them. No leverage. Behind him Donnie could hear the gentle drag of fabrics and the squeak of his chair as Leonardo moved; Leonardo was bandaging himself, and Donnie could smell the disinfectant. The genius' heart thrummed as he plugged the SD card into the computer. Windows upon windows sprang up at once, giving him the feeling of sensory overload and Donnie had to look away for a brief second so the sensation of a migraine would pass.

One window contained nothing but coding, and Donatello put that window in the background; others, like a live map that was much more composed and cleaner than his feeble attempt at pinning a location, were at the forefront. The map was a one panel bird's eye view of the west side of Manhattan and Don clicked on it, enlarging the surface to see an area closer to the dormant red spot. Street and sign names had been the white lines running rampant along the map when he'd zoomed in; a cool chill of relief swept over him. Coordinates flashes in the upper left hand corner for chip two. "Leo," Donatello felt light headed, "Leo I found her. I found her, I found her!" his little brother shook as he jumped up and followed with his brown eyes the mouse Donatello used to point to the coordinates.

"Let's go. We need to go get her!" she was so close! They knew without a doubt, now, that she was okay. She'd survived the hunting apparently undetected. It filled Leo with hope. Everything was going to be okay…

"It's not dark enough yet," Donatello protested. Leo was fixing to go against everything he'd enforced, everything that Splinter had drilled into them since they were children. He never thought he'd see the day.

"Donnie," Leonardo's eyes hardened like amber rocks, "this isn't about _us _this is about _her_. She's been gone for twelve days with who knows how adequate of a food supply and possibly no medical attention, do we really need to wait a few hours so we won't be seen?" Donatello knew he shouldn't answer Leonardo; the gnashing retort was enough to see how he felt but there was a choice to be made. Rescue a female mutant in distress or attract massive media attention that could put them _and_ the people they knew in danger. "Do you think I'd leave _you _out in the cold, alone, and scared if I knew there was a chance I could save you and bring you home?" he faltered at that. No, no he wouldn't wait…Donnie knew that. He'd come rushing in and save him, just like he did Mikey whenever they used to act out the fairytale storybooks when they were kids.

"Give me a minute to think of something," relenting at last Donatello rubbed his bald head fiercely. There had to be _something _he could do. Maybe there was something in one of the windows. Bypassing the map and the coding he found another window, the hidden window. The red dot was present again, and tentatively he clicked on it. Vital signs were lined neatly in rows, and apparently managing from the inside due to the high and accurate temperature it reported for her body heat; just beneath the temperature reading a vial blinked.

Taking that to mean the condition of her blood Donnie clicked on it. Abbreviated hormones came up in a chart, each blood cell group and hormone had a small, different colored line dipping low and rising high like a million rollercoasters. Frankly it looked like Raph and his ability to draw at age three. "Oh no…"

"Oh no _what_?" Leo's breath skirted across his cheek as he leaned in with his good arm atop the chair. Donatello had never even been aware that he'd claimed his chair again but took a screenshot of the chart (who knew how long this would last, anyways? Enemies could've put a time trigger on it…) and poked a green finger at a particular line of hormones.

"She's got increased levels of hormones here, indicating she may be experiencing estrus."

"Estrus?" Leo echoed curiously. Did that hurt? Was it making her go crazy? Could it be some chemical that company put in her?

"She's in _heat_, Leo." he felt as if Raphael had just punched him. If she was in heat that meant she was sending pheromones into the air. How long was the range when it came to feline pheromones? If that tiger was anywhere _near _her he could pick that up and she'd be dead very soon, with little to do but hide and pray. That _thing _was huge; it could kill her just trying to fulfill baser instincts!

"Donnie…find a way to make it dark. Fast. Now." Leo was already running for his gear, and demanding Michelangelo do the same as he went. Don bolted into the sewers to check his favorite street-side grate. The clouds were dark and bloated; it looked like it could snow very soon, maybe within the hour. _Good_, thought Don, _now we won't need to worry about the sun_. "Raph! Raph let's _go _we got a fix on her location." by the time Don got back Leo was fully dressed, as was Mikey, and Maeleyn came out in the steel-based corset she'd asked for; arms covered in accessorizing long black sleeves to match her legs done up by the same black cloth.

Raph stumbled into the rest of his uniform as Don took two minutes to download the mapping software into the tracker; that way if she moved, if she was already anticipating he was coming, they could be there to help her. First he had to make Manhattan dark. He could hear Leo and the others shooting out the front door into the sewers, and Donnie hacked his way into central power to kill the electricity. A satisfying sound of everything mechanical dying with one whir left the lair lightless and Don met up with his brothers before another idea caught him. "I'll meet up with you," Don promised.

"_What_? Why?" Leo stopped short as he pierced his brother with a foul glare. At a time like this? What was he going to do?

"Need something from Casey's. Trust me, it'll be worth it. Go!" the brainy turtle broke off from the bunch and Leo motioned to the rest. Donnie was smart; in that crazy brain of his he _had _to know what he was doing.

* * *

"No, no, this can't be happening! Not _now_!" Jezebelle wanted to curl up and cry. The dark spotting on the crotch of her pants told her it was true, regardless of what she wanted to think. Like it or not she was going into heat, and the vaginal bleeding was a true symptom of it, one she couldn't deny. Though she felt jittery there was a certain sense of arousal, of anticipation running through her; and she could smell her big cat lurking somewhere. She could smell him on the wind, and was sure he could smell her, too.

That part filled her with fear. She didn't want him; he'd probably kill her! The first time was painful enough, and it still amazed her she'd gotten through it! Jezebelle was too afraid to run out with clothes and leave them around the different parts of the city like she had been; she didn't want to be too far from the only shelter she had in case he caught her earlier than she expected. Tears slipped out of her eyes and she let one little moan out, a moan that was a cross between human anguish and feline calling.

Orion was safe in the clothes she'd kept, and licking at the leftover cheese caught in the wrapper from Burger King, last night's dinner. He meowed to her, blinking his eyes. Could he tell she was in distress? She found that stepping out of her protective clothes lessened the pain; the swelling of her sex wasn't restricted and the fabric wouldn't cut into her whenever she lay; it was the first time she'd been fully naked in a while. Ten minutes of curled-up pressure relief was cut short; the door to her haven started rattling wildly.

Tigger, it was Tigger! Her heart leapt into her throat and she scuttled to the back wall. _Try to open it you son of a bitch, try! _she'd go at him head first, with everything she had! The pounding persisted and she growled as menacingly as she could; hoping they growls wouldn't come out provocative or weak because she was in heat. Something metallic and shimmering bit through the door, a whine following the trail as it cut a jagged, primitive doorway.

"Jezebelle? Jezebelle, are you okay? Listen to me; I need you to open the door okay? Then we can—are you _bleeding_?" though his face was pressed hard to the concrete Jezebelle had never been happier to see the unmistakable features of the eldest turtle. Most of all the compassionate brown eyes of his that were always for his brothers. She'd missed them all terribly! Their consideration, their couch, the food, the clothes…the sense of family and happiness. The hole he'd cut let him, at best, put an arm up to the shoulder through, and maybe part of the shoulder if he angled it right.

"Leo, hi Leo! How'd you find me? I'm happy to see you!" it was comforting to know they'd tried to look for her, that they weren't mad for her running away. She purred happily and licked the tips of his fingers to show her glee and he squeezed her hand.

"Listen to me; we need to get you out of here. Now, you're not safe!"

"I can't!" Jezebelle didn't know why it was making her blush but the thought of her being in heat around males was never pleasing. It made her nervous. But…he wasn't the same species or would it matter? He did have the nose of an animal, like her, and would be able to smell the scents better than a human. Plus the calling might get on his nerves…their nerves.

"I…" she flushed, "I'm in heat."

"That doesn't matter! Would you rather be in heat and vulnerable or in heat and _safe_?" now that was a word nearly foreign. She hadn't been truly "safe" in a while. In fact, they probably wouldn't be helping her, protecting her now, if she wasn't a mutant. Jezebelle hoped that wasn't the only thing driving Leo to protect her. She'd been alone so long that she was half hoping…but that couldn't work, could it?

The look in his eyes when they shared a house together was always tuned towards family. Safety, practice. He didn't look to be the type that had time for romance, or women. Besides, they were two different species, what was the likelihood he'd go for something outside of his clan? _Very slim_, she thought.

"Open the door or I'll _make_ a door," Leo swore. He jabbed the katana into the door again and Jezebelle backed up a bit. The katana dragged through the material of the door, both of Leo's hands on the one katana to make an even cut, "I'm getting you one way or another."

* * *

A large, bone-shaking roar caused him to lose his grip on the katana in the door completely. Leo felt more surprise than fear as the large tiger landed on the roof, eyeing him like wounded pray. On all fours the animal could've still topped five-seven, he bet, so standing he could be around six foot, maybe a couple of inches over. Well above him, at least. The beast growled again, a noise Leo's internal animal, the one he suppressed by using his cultured intellect, could recognize as a threat and a challenge for the mate.

Before he could even blink the animal was charging at him; a few running steps followed by a large jump and the big cat was in the air. Allegedly four hundred pounds were fixing to land on him, or try to. Screeching like a banshee Jezebelle tore out of the small shack, causing the door to fling open and create a barricade between Leonardo and the descending Tigger. Using the diversion, Leo got to his feet, Jezebelle skidding to a stop in the center of the roof. Tigger was unable to stop himself and collided with the door; the door snapped straight off the shack and took Leo with it, but the fact he had a shell, and that the hilt of his katana was facing him kept the door from totally smashing him under the weight of the tiger.

Ironically his katana had caused the door to make a triangle shape with the ground and cradle Leo in it. He could hear Tigger sniffing, trying to figure out where he was. Kicking the door off of him, and ripping the katana out in one fluid motion he jumped back, watching the tiger put a paw up to his face, as if holding the source of pain. Another loud, angry growl came from the animal. Jezebelle responded, just as angry, and used Leonardo's shell as a springboard to put her before the large tiger mutant.

"I'm not sure how well you can understand human speech when it isn't a command but we have to make a deal here," Jezebelle was very aware of Tigger circling her, and of responding in kind as to not be caught off guard. "You know you're out here due to your baser instinct. Me, you want me. They happen to be in the way." her eyes and head nodded briefly behind her where the others had actually ceased what battle-related movement they intended to carry out so they could listen, "Saying that I see it's a bit narcissistic of me…I don't know if you have a secondary command but I _promise _you this," Jezebelle stood on her hind legs, adopting the stature of an angry, resilient person, "you will touch this family _one _time, that one time is today, the last time. Am I clear?" for a moment Tigger just stared with his brown eyes. Maybe he could understand more than she imagined him to. She thought he comprehended but it was evident he didn't as he raised his right arm and swung. There was little she could do to avoid the blow at such close range and let her body roll towards the shack, attempting to shake the blow off.

Dizziness, spots…she blinked and rolled to her side, using her back legs to push her up; it was utter chaos before her! Tigger was unpredictable, and she wasn't sure who he'd go for. Any moving target had an equal chance of being preyed upon. Almost as soon as Tigger had swung at her had the others jumped back into action with one missing; Donatello had yet to make it to the roof. To Jezebelle it seemed Maeleyn and Mikey were having enough of a time dodging and deflecting Orion without having to deal with Tigger on top of that.

Tigger, himself, seemed to be focusing on the other two. He had his neck turned just so. Jezebelle took off across the roof and lunged at him, her claws visible as she latched on to his neck and bit down hard. A cry escaped the tiger and he veered away from Raphael, gripping the ground ferociously as he ran around trying to disengage her. Jezebelle's tenacious cries were muffled by his fur as she dislodged her sharp teeth from the fur of his neck to his ears. Ears were the core of balance, and if she hurt them he couldn't function.

Leo felt angry that he was at a loss. The enemy wouldn't stand, and how was he supposed to accurately handle an enemy that was nothing more than a livid animal? It wouldn't stand on two feet or expose it's softer under parts, so how was he supposed to attack it? Its claws were sharp, and teeth even worse so no matter what angle he tried there was risk for backlash. Tigger finally threw Jezebelle off and she was able to dismount gracefully with a backflip, something that surprised Leonardo, at least.

Wasn't she supposed to be an ill-to-fight defenseless mother? Apparently not. But then again, in a sense, she'd fought him before. Leonardo doubted _anything _with an animal this big was consensual. "Get off me you little-!" kicking her leg into the air Maeleyn effectively drew Tigger's attention as his son went skyward.

He charged towards her in the same fashion he had Leonardo, and Raphael was quick to respond. Raph dug his sai deep into the male's back near his tail. The turtle half-hoped it would paralyze him, but it didn't look to do that. Tigger responded by bucking and attempting to fling him off, but Raphael embedded the sai deeper into the flesh, refusing to let go. It wasn't until Tigger decide to roll over onto his back to get the latest nuisance off of him that Leo had his first real chance.

Using the front wall of the shack Leonardo leapt off of it and angled his katana to stab into the belly of the beast. He would've landed correctly had Tigger not swerved sharply, thrown Raph almost entirely _off_ the building, and attempted to follow the airborne turtle to make sure he didn't get back onto the building. Leo staked his katana into the back left foot of the tiger and pushed it down as far as it would go; undoubtedly making some sort of impression in the concrete, but it was for his brother. His heart eased back into place when he heard the pissy growl of his little brother who jumped back up onto the roof. "We can't hurt this thing!" Raph complained, his sharp teeth evident with his sneer, "We're just ticklin' him! What are we gonna do?"

"We _need _Donnie," Leo breathed. What was the tiger going to do next? His eyes drifted to the tiger that had landed atop Mikey's head, biting and scratching him relentlessly. He felt like his feet couldn't move fast enough. Tigger was going to close that gap before he was. "Mikey, _move_!" Leonardo wasn't completely sure where she'd come from but Jezebelle had gotten there _before _Tigger and tackled his little brother so that he'd slide back on his shell from the impact, effectively creating enough distance between the two.

Tigger recoiled instantly, and Leonardo had no idea as to why until he saw Donatello leaning barely over the edge of the roof to the shack with an empty bucket of water and his trick bag. Orion lay beneath Tigger's vicious paws, and the body of his son was sparking. Sparking like a…like a machine. The whole battlefield paused, even the father, as he sniffed the curiosity, a small jolt of electricity arcing off the metallic carcass to touch the wet nose. "O-Orion? Orion!" unwisely, Jezebelle put herself right up next to Tigger as she analyzed her son, daring to swivel the head.

She was shocked, like Tigger, but ignored the small burn site as she eyed the piece of shining silver that was his neck behind the severed flaps of real tiger skin. So he and Donnie were right…there really had been something wrong with him. "Jezebelle…I…I'm s—" the tiger father was upon him before he could finish. Tigger pinned him to the rooftop, front paws on either of his shoulder, until one slid to the center of his plastron. Leo sucked in a breath; he felt like he couldn't breathe!

Would he kill him because he was mad? Leo wouldn't put it past him. Jezebelle screamed like tires stuck in a spinout going one hundred miles an hour and snatched a katana from Leonardo's sheath since he couldn't raise his arm and stabbed Tigger in his shoulder. Anything to make him let go! She couldn't lose anyone else!

Apparently the pain did little to deter him. Blood pooled from his shoulder, discoloring his fur and she stabbed him again, trying the other shoulder. _He's really pissed! _Jezebelle began to worry, she could see Leo's throat straining with the effort to breathe. Even with Raphael making more stabs into Tigger's back the tiger wouldn't relent; Michelangelo hitting him did little to help, either. His erection caught her eye and Jezebelle swallowed nervously, feeling nauseous.

_That _would get him off. She wedged herself under his body, squeezing through the trapezoid-shaped space Tigger made bearing down on Leo and closed her eyes, biting down as hard as she could. Tigger stumbled back, completely climbing off the terrapin, pacing in pain and hunkering low, snapping his teeth at her. The sudden rush of air filled his lungs and Leonardo gasped, coughing, as Raphael helped him stand. Blood spots dotted the building top and Leo felt for his missing katana.

Jezebelle clamped her teeth around it, running to them, but Tigger retaliated faster than she thought, his senses probably dulled by now, or he was so crazy that he didn't care (she wasn't sure which) and tackled her before she could make it. She spit the katana out the minute she hit the ground, and it swirled in scraping circles across the rooftop. Tigger sank his teeth into her rear, claws grabbing at her sides. "_AHHHHH_!" Leo would never forget that scream. Blood bubbled down her backside and he could see it in Tigger's mouth, spilling over.

"Get _off _her!" Leonardo picked up the abandoned katana and ran at him. He sent the katana through Tigger's nose and the other through the skull closest to his ear, basically removing the right ear. Tigger let go, and Don dragged Jezebelle out of the way.

"I'll lop the damn thing off!" Maeleyn ran at the belly-up tiger and Leo stopped her, bloodied katana the only thing between her and the panting, growling tiger. She'd only seen him like this once, and it scared her. He'd only looked so determined, so lethal, one year ago when they were all fighting for their lives in the Shredder's stronghold. His face was taut, head pointed down like he was watching something escape him, something that had no chance of living so he just let it crawl, and his eyes spoke of murder in iridescent brown pools. The second Tigger moved, for what reason Leo didn't want to know, he sent the already bloody katanas into the tiger's chest cavity.

A flake of snow touched his nose, and he could see the following one better on the blood of the tiger growling beneath him. He had an amazing tolerance for pain. _Kill him_! the animal side of the leader screamed. Leo probably would, anyways. _Look at her, look at what he did to her_! Mikey and Raphael had yet to move but Maeleyn was over there with Donnie, and by the looks of their faces what damage she had sustained wasn't good.

Closer to the heart the second katana pushed past the fur and Leo watched the head loll back, grumbling breaths creating bursts of fog in the chilling air stopped. A growl escaped Leonardo, a soft one, and he withdrew the katanas. He won the challenge. "Leo, Leo we have to go." Donnie jogged over to him, a look of alarm on his face. "The temperatures dropping and she's lost a lot of blood. His bite didn't penetrate as deep as it could have because you stopped it but he seems to have dislocated her right leg, and she does have extreme blood flow from the sides and the buttocks."

"Go do whatever it was that you needed something from Casey's to do." Leonardo was taking off his coat to give her some warmth. She was shivering, and snow was beginning to fall faster than ever, as if in time with Leo's distress, and Jezebelle looked at him, looked at Mikey who was crouching next to her.

"You're going to be okay, alright? Just sit tight…" Mikey shed his jacket and placed it over Leo's.

"M-my baby. M-my baby…" Donnie barely quit shaving the face of the tiger and looked at her. The perseverance of a mother…a parent…never ceased to amaze him. Despite her dislocated leg she was limping, making her way to the carcass of her child.

"Look at me, look at me." Donnie crouched next to her. Reflexes fading fast. Probably hypothermia. "We have to get you to the lair. Come on, come with me."

"No, no don't lift me!" Jezebelle was close to tears, despite wanting to admit it to herself. A dislocated leg actually hurt. "I-it hurts!" She hadn't remembered physical pain like _that _since…Iago.

_His large fists beat down on her shoulders, around the nape of her neck to drop her to the floor and went down with her. He sat on her back, immobilizing her with his sheer weight and structure (she wasn't built for power, but for speed and fitting into odd places like a good operative, though she had no deadly operative initiative). Jezebelle struggled to turn around, to buck him off, and her bare feet, also possessing three blanched almond toes (like the digits of her hand) scraped deep and hard against the floor in a squirming effort, leaving behind scrape marks. She bit down on his fingers again; the outer skin of his pointer finger nearest her lips but it did nothing._

_Iago had been desensitized to the pain. His hands continued to squeeze around her throat, his thumb occasionally rubbing soft circles on her furry skin…_

"Put my leg bag in, and _then_ lift me."

"You need to—"

"You _will not lift me _if my leg is not in place."

"Alright…hold your breath." if she could survive mating with Tigger, or even the surgeries that made her bones more cat-like than human, she could survive Donatello putting her leg back in the socket, especially since it was dislocated at the hip and not both places. "One, two, three." he grabbed the dislocated piece and pushed it in. He'd had to put Raph's arm back many times and sometimes Mikey's shoulder. Instead of screaming she bit down on her lip, hard. Jezebelle had promised herself not to scream anymore; she was free, and there was no need to scream anymore. Misellus Corp was a thing of the past. "Leo and Mikey are going to carry you, okay?"

"Take my baby. I wa-want answers. Why is his skin on that metal t-thing? What's that m-metal thing?"

"I will, I will," Don hushed her as Leo and Mikey approached, curiously, and gave Donnie fleeting looks regarding how to pick her up. "You grab here and you, here." the two brothers were basically making a cradle by interlacing their fingers and picked her up.

"Go Mikey, go." Maeleyn wasn't far behind them, Raph staying behind to watch Don begin to pick up the metallic carcass of her child.

"Guess we know where Hun's been for a year." Raph grumbled as he jabbed a thumb to the shaved face of the dead tiger. Even mutation couldn't hide scarred flesh, and three stripes that could've passed for _real _tiger marks were on the right side of his face.

"Yep," Don acknowledged in a whisper, nodding his head. Hun had been one of the people in the epic brawl last year. _How many others survived_? he wondered. There was a possibility Stockman would've, but it was slim. Collecting the fake shell that was Orion Donatello motioned Raphael to follow him.

"You're going to be okay…" Leo whispered soothingly to her, looking over her as if she were a wounded Mikey instead of a wounded Jezebelle. "Donnie's going to look you over and we'll get you patched up." he pinched her hand and she winced. "Sorry." looking over her Leo wondered just how bad she'd gotten hurt. _You're some hellcat, _Leo thought with a proud, yet sad smile.

And what had he done?

Stood there and looked stupid because he realized he didn't _know _how to fight something that didn't fight on two legs. He felt like an idiot! "It's okay," she smiled despite her bloody lip. Leo felt conflicted. In his heart he felt that he'd done very little to help the mutant woman in her fear, and that she had done more than he, but why did her smile make what he felt irrelevant?

All that mattered was she smiled.

* * *

"Bad news boss." Devin held the cell phone between his ear and shoulder. "Our dot has disappeared…both of them have."

"_Someone's trying to use them," _noted Shadow from the other side of the phone, _"as soon as the chip goes through anything twice it wipes itself clean."_

"So we're good on that then? No one can trace it?"

"_Highly unlikely, but what do you mean 'on that'?"_

"Well," admitted Devin with great hesitance. This was in no way his field but it was his duty as a tech analyst to let him know what the media would soon find. "That big tiger thing is dead. I'm already seeing media coverage. Something stabbed it a couple of times. There's damage to the wang so maybe you have another bun in the oven for your kitty."

"_Possibly but there's a chance it won't take, especially if she's in heat it could just slip out like a miscarriage. Was the recording unit on the roof?"_

Devin frowned. "No, it was lifted." he regretted to report. He was shocked to hear Shadow laugh.

"_Looks like they're getting the pieces. I love fun, elaborate game play. I'll let the co-owner know as that was their property. Keep an eye on the coverage for me."_

"What if they find the tattoo?" Devin inquired, locking his eyes on the live streaming video from Channel Five covering the carcass of the large tiger.

"_They won't know what it means. The original records were destroyed last year, we had to start from scratch so there's little to trace. If they do find it they can't link it to much. Most of our experiments can't talk…if those green freaks do what I think they will she won't have much time left to talk, either." _the cell phone went dead, Shadow had hung up on him. A chill made Devin shiver. What original records? The sense that there was more to Shadow than he thought was turning out to be right. But how could he prove it?

_Maybe I should just let it go, _he thought, _I don't want to get iced. _Who'd believe him, anyways? He was so deep in mobster life, even at his age; people could catch him for ratting before he opened his door. Devin rubbed his chin; the fact that he didn't know the full story would irritate him. Seeing as how the news had caught this fiasco he could meet the co-owner. The co-owner would know just as much as Shadow. "I'll talk to him about it later," he decided aloud, "he seems to be in a good mood."

* * *

Leo clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees as he sat in Don's swivel chair, watching her. According to Donatello she was under heavy but tolerable sedative to cope with the pain. He slouched, watching over her like he had any of his brothers when they were with fever or colds. "You are absolutely amazing, I have to admit," why he was talking he didn't know. Don said it was common though, and they'd talked to him after Shredder beat him so bad he was unconscious for almost a week.

"You fought…you were great. I didn't think you'd fight as hard as you did, for us, considering I made you leave." that one was hard to put out; he almost hurt his throat saying it. While he could admit he could've been more sensitive on the subject it was his stubborn personality that persisted into the driving, hawk-like attention to her son and the suspected abnormality. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you saved Mikey. I thought…I thought he was gone. Don said the impact could've shattered his ribs from the inside and killed him due to all the internal bleeding." catching the blood coming from her cracked, dried lips he dabbed at them again. They'd cleaned her up but she'd bitten her lip so hard when Don put her leg back into place that the punctures wouldn't heal for days. Their turtle doctor said blood might very well come up with talking and smiling, but Leo figured that suffering was minute compared to what that animal could've done to her.

"I'm honored that you did what you did for me. I can't imagine how that must've felt…how _you _felt, but I promise it won't go forgotten. I don't care _who _hunts you, they won't get past me." he felt a bit more settled after that. Even if she was asleep she needed to know. Or maybe he just needed to tell her so he'd know she'd know…as he wasn't the best with openly conveying things. To a woman mutant. One who needed comfort and a home now more than ever.

"And I'm sorry you lost your son…" there was no way he could make up for that. Consoling would probably just open the wound, but she was asleep. Leo figured someone should grieve with her. Maybe she thought she was alone, at least in the lair; she hadn't been told Maeleyn lost a child. "We're here though; if you need us…I'm here if you need me." he kissed her forehead, like Splinter used to do them when they were having a nightmare, or waking up in a sweat to fight off a fever.

She opened her tired yellow eyes and smiled. Immediately he flushed and cursed himself; just because Don said she was under a sedative didn't mean she was _asleep_! Leo wiped the blood from her lip with his thumb. "Stay here." Jezebelle whispered. He nodded; finding it slightly amusing she looked so dreamy and yet so tired she could be dead and possibly thirty years older at the same time

"I'll stay here. Right here."


End file.
